POLLYOOLY 

jgr-EDGAR-JEPSON 


POLLYOOLY 


The  Duke  was  staggered 


POLLYOOLY 


A  ROMANCE  OF  LONG  FELT  WANTS  AND  THE 
RED  HAIRED  GIRL  WHO  FILLED  THEM 


By 

EDGAR  JEPSON 


Author  of 
THE  ADMIRABLE  TINKER 


WITH    ILLUSTRATIONS    BY 

HANSON  BOOTH 


INDIANAPOLIS 

THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 


COPYRIGHT  1912 
THE  BOBBS-MERRILL  COMPANY 


PRESS    OP 
MAUNWORTN   4   CO. 

BOOKBINDERS    AND    PRINTERS 
•ROOKLYN,   N.   r. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  FAGK 

I    POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS      .       .  1 

II    THE  SIEGE 56 

III  POLLYOOLY  VINDICATES  HER  PERSONAL 

HUMAN  DIGNITY 100 

IV  THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE   .       .       .  125 
V    LOVE'S  MESSENGER 156 

VI    THE  IDEA  OF  THE  DUCHESS     ....  212 

VII    POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  THE  CHANGELING     .       .  227 

VIII    POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER  ....  260 

IX    THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE     .              ...  310 


POLLYOOLY 


POLLYOOLY 

t 

CHAPTER  I 

POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS 

THE  Lump  shan't  go  into  the  workhouse — 
ever,"  said  the  angel  child,  with  the  red  hair, 
firmly.     Then  after  a  pause  she  added  even  more 
firmly,  "I  won't  let  him." 

Mrs.  Brown  shook  her  shapely  head :  she  was  the 
wife  of  a  policeman.  The  gloom  on  her  so  round 
and  usually  so  cheerful  face  deepened ;  and  she  said 
despondently,  "I  don't  know  how  you'll  manage — 
you  bein'  so  young,  an'  work  that  'ard  to  git." 

"Aunt  Hannah  told  me  never  to  let  the  Lump  go 
into  the  workhouse  the  last  afternoon  I  saw  her  at 
the  hospital;  and  I  promised  her  he  never  should; 
and  he  shan't,"  said  the  angel  child  in  the  same  tone 
of  cold  resolution.  "I've  got  twenty-two  shillings 
as  it  is." 

I 


2  POLLYOOLY 

"An'  that  won't  last  long,  Pollyooly,  my  dear," 
said  Mrs.  Brown  gloomily. 

"But  on  Saturday  there'll  be  another  ten  shill- 
ings— five  shillings  from  Mr.  Ruffin  and  five  shill- 
ings from  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins ;  and  perhaps  I'll  go 
on  doing  their  work  for  quite  a  long  time,"  said 
Pollyooly,  still  undismayed. 

"That's  too  much  to  'ope/'  said  Mrs.  Brown,  her 
words  and  tone  once  more  belying  her  naturally 
cheerful  face. 

"They  don't  know  that  Aunt  Hannah's  dead," 
said  Pollyooly. 

"They'll  'ear,"  said  Mrs.  Brown  conscientiously, 
in  the  same  comforting  vein. 

"They  won't  hear  from  me,"  .said  Pollyooly 
curtly. 

"But  if  they  know  how  bad  she.  was,  they'll  'ave 
bin  expectin'  'er  to  die,"  said  Mrs.  Brown. 

"They  only  know  that  she's  ill.  I  didn't  tell  them 
that  it  was  an  accident,  and  how  bad  it  was.  And 
I'm  not  going  to  tell  them  she's  dead.  I'm  going  to 
go  on  doing  her  work  just  as  long  as  I  can,"  said 
Pollyooly  in  the  same  tone  of  cold  resolution. 

"Lord,  Pollyooly,  what  lies  you'll  have  to  tell! 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS    3 

An'  whatever  would  your  Aunt  Hannah  have  said  to 
that?  An'  she  so  strict  with  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Brown,  raising  her  plump  hands. 

"It  isn't  for  me — it's  for  the  Lump.  And  it's 
all  there  is  to  do,"  said  Pollyooly  with  a  touch  of 
distress  in  her  resolute  voice.  "And  I  shan't  tell  any 
lies,  Mrs.  Brown;  I  shan't  really.  If  they  ask  me 
straight  out  if  Aunt  Hannah  is  dead,  I  shall  tell 
them  the  truth." 

"What  a  row  there'll  be,  when,  they  do  find  out," 
said  Mrs.  Brown. 

"I  can't  help  that— there's  the  Lump,"  said  Polly- 
ooly. "Besides,  I  cook  their  breakfasts  for  them 
and  clean  their  rooms  quite  well — ever  so  much  bet- 
ter than  that  dirty  old  Mrs.  Meeken  does  the  floor 
below." 

"I  must  say  that  your  aunt  did  bring  you  up  to 
do  things  proper.  And  I  expect  you  to  do  them 
two  sets  of  chambers  quite  well.  What's  two  sets  of 
chambers,  after  all?  And  gentlemen  too  who  never 
know  whether  a  room's  clean,  or  whether  it  isn't. 
I  do  'opa  as  you'll  keep  the  jobs  a  good  long  time. 
I  don't  see  who's  to  tell  the  gentlemen  that  your 
Aunt  Hannah's  dead.  But  things  do  out  so,"  said 


4  POLLYOOLY 

Mrs.  Brown;  and  she  surveyed  the  two  children 
gloomily. 

Yet  they  were  not  of  an  appearance  to  cast  a 
gloom  on  the  faces  of  those  who  beheld  them. 
Pollyooly  was,  to  the  eye,  the  genuine  angel  child. 
Her  eyes  were  a  deep  blue;  her  mouth  was  shaped 
like  Cupid's  bow;  the  hue  of  wild  roses  stained 
faintly  her  pale  cheeks;  and  her  white  skin  was 
translucent  like  mother-of-pearl.  Her  chin  was  per- 
haps a  little  squarer  than  the  chin  of  the  conven- 
tional angel;  and  her  red  hair  was  further  at 
variance  with  the  Christmas-card  tradition  and  ideal. 
But  to  the  eye  of  persons  of  taste  she  was  the  gen- 
uine angel  child. 

Even  so  was  her  little  brother  Roger,  whose  mag- 
nificent placidity  had  earned  for  him  the  name  of 
"The  Lump,"  the  genuine  cherub,  with  the  round, 
chubby  face,  little  curls,  and  Cupid's  bow  mouth  of 
all  the  cherubs  that  the  painters  have  limned,  the 
sculptors  carved.  But  in  him  also  there  was  no 
slavish  adherence  to  tradition :  his  curls,  like  Polly- 
ooly's  silken  hair,  were  red. 

Pollyooly's  black  frock  and  the  Lump's  black 
tunic  threw  their  clear  complexions  and  delicate  col- 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS    5 

oring  into  vivid  relief.  They  had  just  returned  from 
the  funeral  of  their  great-aunt,  Hannah  Bride.  Five 
days  earlier  an  enthusiastic  motorist,  engaged  in  a 
spirited  effort  to  beat  the  speed-limit  along  the 
Thames  Embankment,  had  knocked  her  down,  and 
she  had  died  of  her  injuries  in  St.  Thomas'  hos- 
pital. 

The  motorist,  one  of  the  wealthy  aliens  who  help 
so  hard  to  make  England  what  she  should  not  be, 
on  observing  that  he  had  knocked  down  a  woman, 
beat  the  speed-limit  to  a  frazzle  in  his  passionate 
effort  to  escape  the  payment  of  a  doctor's  bill,  and 
since  it  chanced  that  no  one  saw,  or  at  any  rate  re- 
membered, the  number  of  his  car,  he  made  good 
that  escape. 

Hannah  Bride  died  none  the  more  peacefully  for 
the  thought  that  she  left  a  grand-niece  of  twelve  and 
a  grand-nephew  of  two  to  face  the  world  with  about 
a  pound  in  money  and  some  indifferent  furniture. 
Yet  she  did  not  die  in  utter  dismay,  for  she  believed 
that  Heaven  would  temper  the  wind  to  these  two 
lambs  shorn  of  their  great-aunt;  and  she  had  great 
confidence  in  Pollyooly  as  the  protector  of  the  Lump. 

Mrs.  Brown  had  helped  Pollyooly  draw  her  aunt's 


6  POLLYOOLY 

burial  money  from  the  insurance  company,  and  had 
arranged  the  funeral.  Now,  on  their  return  from  it, 
she  was  giving  the  children  the  lavish  tea  the  sorrow- 
ful occasion  demanded. 

She  and  her  husband,  a  rising  young  policeman, 
were  the  children's  only  friends  in  London,  or  in- 
deed in  the  world.  Mrs.  Brown  was  a  native  of 
Muttle-Deeping,  and  had  been  in  service  at  Deeping 
Hall  when  Hannah  Bride  was  its  housekeeper,  in  the 
days  of  Lady  Constantia  Deeping.  Three  years  be- 
fore Hannah  Bride  had  retired  to  private  life  in  a 
cottage  at  Muttle-Deeping,  on  her  savings  and  a 
pension  from  Lady  Constantia,  in  order  that  she 
might  devote  herself  to  the  rearing  of  the  Lump, 
whose  mother  had  died  in  bringing  him  into  the 
world. 

A  year  later  misfortunes  befell  her.  Lady  Con- 
stantia Deeping  died;  and  her  heir,  the  Duke  of 
Osterley,  had  marked  his  disapproval  of  the  Old 
Age  Pensions  Act  by  stopping  all  the  pensions  of  the 
old  servants  who  had  for  so  many  years  served  his 
father  and  uncles  and  aunts.  It  had  proved  a  great 
saving  to  him :  in  the  case  of  Hannah  Bride  alone 
he  saved  thirty  pounds  a  year. 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS     7 

Then  Hannah  Bride  had  lost  the  savings  of  her 
forty-seven  years'  service  with  Lady  Constantia 
Deeping  in  an  imaginary  gold-mine,  the  offspring  of 
the  fertile  fancy  of  three  gentlemen-  who  spent  their 
laborious  days  in  the  City  of  London,  and  the  in- 
strument with  which  they  extracted  money  from 
simple  old  men  and  women  whose  country  expe- 
rience had  gifted  them  with  an  insufficient  distrust 
of  the  Oriental  imagination. 

Thus  it  came  about  that,  thanks  to  the  Duke  of 
Osterley  and  these  three  gentlemen,  Hannah  Bride 
came  to  London  to  begin  the  world  afresh  at  the  age 
of  sixty-seven. 

Mrs.  Brown  had  been  her  mainstay.  She  had 
found  for  her  lodging  an  attic  at  the  top  of  the 
house  in  which  she  herself  lived,  and  it  was  from 
her  that  Hannah  Bride  had  learned  that  the  post 
of  laundress  to  two  sets  of  rooms  in  the  Inner 
Temple  was  vacant,  had  applied  for  them,  and  had 
been  so  lucky  as  to  obtain  them. 

After  the  manner  of  her  class,  Mrs.  Brown  reck- 
oned a  funeral  an  occasion  for  feasting,  and  she  was 
giving  the  children  buttered  toast  with  jam  on  it. 
They  both  enjoyed  it;  the  Lump  with  the  natural 


8  POLLYOOLY 

freedom  from  care  of  his  two  and  a  half  years, 
Pollyooly  in  spite  of  her  anxiety  about  the  future, 
and  her  grief  at  her  aunt's  death.  During  the  rest 
of  the  meal  she  discussed  with  Mrs.  Brown  the  pros- 
pects of  getting  work,  when  she  should  have  lost  her 
Temple  posts.  Mrs.  Brown  assured  her  with  confi- 
dent conviction  that,  as  soon  as  Mr.  Ruffin  and  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  learned  of  her  aunt's  death,  they 
would  insist  on  having  a  laundress — those  who  clean 
and  cook  in  chambers  in  the  Temple  have  from 
times  immemorial  borne  the  title  of  'Laundress' — 
staider  and  of  more  trustworthy  years;  and  Polly- 
ooly sadly  believed  her. 

After  tea  she  took  the  Lump  up  to  their  attic  and 
washed  him.  Then  they  sallied  forth  into  their 
street,  that  little  slum,  much  of  it  seventeenth  cen- 
tury, on  which  the  back  windows  of  the  middle 
block  of  the  King's  Bench  Walk  look  down,  and 
which  is  all  that  is  left  of  the  Alsatia  of  the  Stuarts. 
It  is  not  unlikely  that  in  the  very  room  in  which  they 
had  eaten  the  funeral  feast  of  buttered  toast  and 
jam,  the  great  hero  of  the  restoration,  Colonel 
Blood,  caroused,  drinking  the  English  sun  to  sleep, 
and  lighting  lamps  tliat  would  have  otttburned  the 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS    9 

Eddystone  had  it  chanced  to  have  been  built  at  the 
time. 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  Pollyooly,  in  spite  of  her 
mourning,  walked  down  that  immemorial  slum 
with  a  truculent  swagger  which  went  ill  with  her 
angelic  air.  She  was  at  variance  with  certain  young 
Alsatians  who  had  taken  shrill  exception  to  the 
redness  of  her  hair,  and  she  prosecuted  a  relentless 
feud  against  them  with  a  vigor,  the  result  of  a  child- 
hood spent  in  the  healthy  air  of  Muttle-Deeping, 
which  they  feared  and  envied.  The  two  children 
came  down  the  street  without  encounter,  and  went  to 
the  gardens  on  the  Embankment.  There,  while  the 
Lump  disported  himself,  in  his  sedate  way,  on  the 
dry  turf  with  an  unmaned  wooden  horse,  Pollyooly 
sat  and  considered  the  dark  future.  In  her  black 
frock,  with  her  desolate,  delicate  air,  she  looked  but 
a  frail  creature  to  face  the  world,  a  frail  provider 
of  the  needs  of  the  carefree  cherub. 

Next  morning,  however,  when  she  betook  herself 
in  her  oft-washed  blue  print  frock,  for  she  was  keep- 
ing the  black  frock,  which  had  been  purchased  out  of 
the  burial-money,  as  best,  to  No.  75  in  the  King's 
Bench  Walk,  she  wore  the  serene  and  cheerful  air 


io  POLLYOOLY 

proper  to  a  dauntless  spirit;  and  as  she  swept  and 
dusted  the  rooms  in  her  care,  she  sang  softly  the 
songs  of  the  country  child. 

It  was  half-past  eight ;  she  was  cooking  the  break- 
fast of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  when  there  came 
a  knock  at  his  oak,  as  the  outer  door  of  a  set  of 
chambers  is  inexplicably  called,  seeing  that  it  is  so 
often  made  of  pitch-pine.  She  peered  cautiously 
through  the  slit  of  the  letter-box,  as  she  had  been 
carefully  instructed  to  do  lest  she  should  open  the 
oak  to  the  seedy  dun.  She  saw,  standing  without,  a 
stout  gentleman  of  a  rich  Assyrian  air,  wearing  a 
very  shiny  silk  hat :  a  well-to-do  figure,  reassuring  to 
her  childish  mind ;  and  she  opened  the  oak. 

"I  want  to  see  Mr.  Ruffin,"  said  the  stout  gentle- 
man sharply. 

There  was  a  touch  of  hostility  in  his  tone,  and 
Pollyooly's  quick  ear  caught  it :  "You  can't  see  him. 
He's  not  had  breakfast;  it's  no  use  bothering  him 
before  breakfast,"  she  said  quickly. 

"Rats,"  said  the  stout  gentleman  shortly;  and  he 
pushed  rudely  past  her,  went  along  the  passage  to 
the  sitting-room,  and,  without  knocking,  entered  it. 

The  sitting-room  was  empty  of  human  occupant, 


I  want  to  see  Mr.  Ruffin,"  said  the  stout  gentleman  sharply 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  n 

but  bestrewn  with  human  wearing  apparel ;  and  then 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  came  into  it  from  his 
bedroom. 

"What  the  deuce  do  you  mean  by  forcing  your 
way  unannounced,  Fitzgerald?"  he  said  sharply. 

"I've  come  for  my  money — the  rest  of  my 
money,"  said  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  in  a  tone 
of  fierce  bluster. 

The  tone  seemed  to  soothe  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin;  the  slight  frown  cleared  from  his  excellent 
brow;  and  he  smiled  an  amiable,  though  mocking 
smile. 

"Didn't  you  get  my  letter?"  he  said  in  a  gentle, 
rather  drawling  voice. 

"Yes ;  I  got  it  all  right.  And  I've  come  to  find  out 
what  it  means,"  said  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  yet 
more  blusterously. 

"It  means  what  it  says.  You've  come  to  the  end 
of  fleecing  me.  I've  paid  off  your  loan  and  twenty 
per  cent,  interest  on  it ;  and  I'm  not  going  to  pay  a 
farthing  more,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Rufrin  in 
the  sweetest  tone  of  his  well-modulated  voice. 

Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  gasped;  then  he  thun- 
dered, "My  money !  I'm  going  to  'ave  it !" 


12  POLLYOOLY 

"Not  from  me,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
with  unabated  sweetness. 

"I  will  have  it!  I'll  show  you  what's  what,  if  you 
try  to  come  any  of  these  swindling  games  over  me ! 
I  will  have  it !"  roared  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald. 

"You  can  get  it  from  the  devil — or  the  High 
Court,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  with  cloy- 
ing sweetness. 

Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  burst  into  a  warm  per- 
spiration. The  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  first  sug- 
gestion was  absurd^ — there  was  no  money  there.  His 
second  suggestion  was  little  better — the  High  Court 
was  the  last  place  to  which  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald 
wished  to  go  for  several  months.  On  a  recent  visit 
to  it,  to  obtain  a  little  matter  of  sixty  per  cent,  from 
another  unfortunate  client,  the  judge  had  taken  oc- 
casion to  remark  on  his  methods  of  dealing  with  in- 
experienced youth  with  a  crude  frankness  which  had 
considerably  contracted  the  sphere  of  his  lucrative 
usefulness  to  the  community;  he  wished  it  contract- 
ed no  further. 

He  hesitated  a  moment ;  then  in  a  very  different, 
indeed  a  honeyed,  tone,  he  said,  "Now,  Mr.  Ruffin, 
you're  a  man  of  honor — " 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  13 

"Am  I?"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
sharply. 

"You  are,"  said  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald 
warmly. 

"In  that  case  you  ought  not  to  be  in  my  rooms  for 
a  moment;  and  if  you  don't  clear  out  this  very  in- 
stant, I'll  kick  you  out,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin;  and  he  made  a  step  forward  with  such  a 
stern  light  of  resolution  shining  in  his  eyes  that  Mr. 
Montague  Fitzgerald  reached  the  door  in  a  single 
bound  and  vanished  through  it. 

"Ruffin  by  name  and  Ruffin  by  nature,"  he  said 
as  he  came  down  the  passage;  and  he  pushed  back 
his  hat  to  wipe  his  warm  and  beaded  brow  with  a 
large  silk  handkerchief  of  garish  hue. 

"I  told  you  not  to  go  and  bother  Mr.  Ruffin  be- 
fore breakfast,"  said  Pollyooly  with  unsympathetic 
severity. 

The  money-lender  scowled  at  her,  and  said  fe- 
rociously, "I'll  make  him  pay  for  it  as  sure  as  my 
name's  Montague  Fitzgerald !" 

"I  shouldn't  think  you  will.  Mr.  Ruffin  doesn't 
pay  anything  unless  he  wants  to,"  said  Pollyooly 
with  an  air  of  superior  knowledge ;  and  she  laughed 


14  POLLYOOLY 

gleefully  as  she  turned  to  the  bacon  she  was  grilling, 
for  she  had  heard  heart  to  heart  talks  before  between 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  and  other  creditors. 

Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  flung  across  the  thres- 
hold and  slammed  the  inner  door  violently  behind 
him.  It  can  not  have  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  sig- 
nalized his  departure  with  sufficient  emphasis,  for 
on  the  instant  he  slammed  to  the  oak  as  well. 

Pollyooly  smoothed  the  joyous  smile  from  her 
face,  carried  the  bacon  into  the  sitting-room,  and 
set  it  on  the  table. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  was  reading  the 
Morning  Post  with  an  entirely  unruffled  serenity. 
He  rose  briskly  and  said,  "Ah,  ha!  Breakfast.  I 
fear  the  vulgar  taste  for  altercation  is  growing  on 
me,  Pollyooly.  It  improves  my  appetite." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

He  began  his  breakfast,  and  she  went  round  the 
room  tidying  it  up.  She  had  done  that  already  that 
morning;  but  in  the  few  minutes  which  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  had  spent  in  it,  he  had  uncon- 
sciously, but  thoroughly,  effaced  the  traces  of  her 
earlier  work.  On  one  chair  lay  the  jacket  of  his  pa- 
jamas, on  the  other  his  bath-towel,  on  another  his 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  15 

sponge.  He  had  apparently  had  some  difficulty  in 
making  up  his  mind  what  clothes  he  would  wear  that 
day,  for  three  pairs  of  trousers,  a  coat,,  and  two 
waistcoats  had  been  thrown  on  the  sofa;  and  the 
drawer  in  which  he  kept  his  ties  stood  on  the  floor 
by  the  window  in  a  good  light. 

Now  and  again  Pollyooly  glanced  at  him  with 
approval.  He  was  not  a  handsome  man.  No  fabri- 
cator of  waxworks  would  ever  offer  him  a  salary  to 
sit  as  a  model  for  busts  of  the  Apollos  which  adorn 
the  windows  of  the  hairdressers.  But  he  had  an 
uncommon  air  of  breeding  and  distinction.  His 
well-shaped,  firm  lips,  square  chin,  and  steadfast 
gray  eyes  showed  him  a  young  man  of  a  resolute 
spirit;  and  about  the  corners  of  those  firm  lips  and 
steadfast,  but  kindly,  eyes  lurked  a  spirit  of  humor, 
mocking  and  elusive.  What  though  his  nose  was 
too  large  for  his  somewhat  lean  face  ?  The  ancients 
have  for  ever  decided  that  it  is  better  to  have  a  nose 
too  large  than  too  small. 

For  his  part,  as  he  ate  his  bacon  with  slow  ap- 
proval, he  watched  Pollyooly  with  the  pleased  eye  of 
a  lover  of  beauty;  and  presently  he  said,  in  a  tone 
of  gentle  apology,  "I'm  afraid  you  find  me  rather 


1 6  POLLYOOLY 

trying,  Pollyooly.  The  fact  is  I  was  born  to  enjoy 
the  services  of  a  valet;  and  every  morning  the  effort 
of  deciding  what  to  wear  brings  home  to  me  afresh 
the  unkindness  of  fortune  in  robbing  me  of  my 
birthright." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  politely.  She  liked  the 
conversation  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  though 
she  rarely  put  the  strain  of  trying  to  understand  it 
on  her  tender  mind. 

"How  is  your  aunt  this  morning?"  he  said. 

Pollyooly  flushed  faintly  and  said  quickly,  "She's 
no  better,  sir,  thank  you." 

"Well,  I  hope  she'll  soon  be  well  enough  to  begin 
work  again." 

"Don't  I  do  it  right,  sir?"  said  Pollyooly 
anxiously. 

"Quite — quite.  You  keep  the  place  quite  as  clean, 
and  you  have  a  way  with  bacon  your  aunt  could 
never  hope  to  rival.  I  can  only  ascribe  it  to  the  pos- 
session of  genius — genius,  Pollyooly;  and  when 
Fortune  relents,  I  shall  attach  you  to  my  person,  at  a 
large  salary,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  grilling  my 
breakfast  bacon  for  me.  I  have  decided  that  when  I 
start  on  my  tour1  round  the  world  I  shall  take  with 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  17 

me  a  valet,  you,  and  six  well-fed  pigs,  to  be  killed 
and  cured  at  such  intervals  as  the  occasion  de- 
mands." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  gravely.  "But 
I  couldn't  leave  the  Lump — my  brother  Roger,  sir." 

"We  will  take  brother  Roger  with  us.  I  must 
have  my  bacon ;  and  traveling  will  expand  his  mind," 
said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  with  a  lordly  air. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly ;  and  she  carried 
the  drawer,  the  garments,  the  bath-towel,  and  the 
sponge  into  the  bedroom.  Then  she  went  to  the 
kitchen,  boiled  two  eggs,  and  brought  them  to  her 
employer. 

"Perfectly  done — an  angel  of  genius,"  he  said, 
after  opening  the  first  of  them.  "Has  it  ever  oc- 
curred to  you,  Pollyooly,  how  extraordinarily  like 
an  angel  you  look?" 

"Angels  don't  have  red  hair,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly 
quickly. 

"Yes;  your  red  hair  is  against  the  best  British 
traditions,  but  not  against  the  Italian.  I  must  assure 
you  that  in  spite  of  your  red  hair  you  are,  to  the 
cultivated  eye,  the  authentic  angel  child,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  firmly. 


1 8  POLLYOOLY 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  doubtfully. 

The  gray  eyes  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
twinkled,  and  he  said,  "Surely  your  neighbors  have 
pointed  this  out  to  you?" 

For  the  first  time  the  respectful  seriousness  of 
Pollyooly's  face  was  broken  by  a  frown;  and  her 
eyes  flashed.  "The*  big  boys  call  me  'Ginger,'  sir," 
she  said. 

"The  big  boy  is  an  insensate  creature,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  with  the  sententious  assur- 
ance of  an  expert  anthropologist.  "And  what  do 
little  boys  call  you?" 

"They  don't  call  me  anything.  I've  taught  them 
not  to,"  said  Pollyooly  with  a  sudden,  unangelic 
truculence. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  chuckled.  "I  might 
have  known  it — red  hair  will  out,"  he  said  in  the 
pleased  tone  of  one  who  chances  on  yet  another 
proof  of  a  cherished  theory. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

Reluctantly  she  left  him  to  finish  his  breakfast  and 
betook  herself  to  the  set  of  chambers  on  the  other 
side  of  the  landing  to  prepare  the  breakfast  of  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins.  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  felt  no  need 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  19 

of  converse  with  his  fellow-creatures  at  breakfast 
time;  and  if  he  had,  it  could  not  have  been  gratified 
by,  converse  with  a  little  girl.  He  was  a  strong,  si- 
lent man,  with  a  soul  above  girls,  little  or  big.  All 
his  powerful  mind  was  seriously  bent  on  a  brilliant 
career  at  the  Bar  and  in  politics;  and  he  refrained 
sternly  from  frittering  away  his  intelligence  on 
lighter  things.  It  is  an  odd,  but  pregnant,  fact  that 
though  his  face  was  longer  and  broader  than  the 
face  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  neither  his  nose 
nor  his  eyes  were  as  big  as  those  of  the  younger  and 
less  earnest  man. 

Pollyooly  rarely  had  a  word  from  him  beyond  his 
instructions  about  procuring  the  food  he  desired  for 
his  breakfast  next  morning,  though  she  often  heard 
him  snort  like  a  war-horse  as  he  browsed  sternly  on 
his  morning  paper.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  she  did 
not  lavish  on  his  bacon  the  thoughtful  care  she  lav- 
ished on  that  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin ;  but  the 
appeal  of  the  really  sterling  qualities  of  God's  Eng- 
lishman to  a  child  of  twelve  is  seldom  strong. 

Till  noon  she  was  busy  with  the  rest  of  the  work 
of  the  two  sets  of  chambers,  washing  up  the  crock- 
ery, dusting  the  bedrooms,  and  making  the  beds. 


20  POLLYOOLY 

Then,  having  finished  her  work,  she  shut  the  two 
oaks  with  a  deep  sigh  of  relief  that  she  had  earned 
her  wages  for  yet  another  day  before  her  employers 
learned  of  her  aunt's  death. 

As  she  came  down  the  stairs,  Mrs.  Meeken,  the 
extremely  decayed  lady  who  acted  as  laundress  to 
the  tenants  of  the  two  sets  of  chambers  on  the  floor 
below,  contrived  to  be  on  the  landing  to  greet  her. 

"And  how's  your  poor  aunt  to-day?"  she  said 
with  a  carneying  smile. 

"She's  not  any  better,  thank  you,"  said  Polly ooly 
quickly. 

"Ah,  at  'er  hage,  poor  dear,  we  knows  what  hill- 
ness  his.  I  shouldn't  wonder  as  she  hisn't  long  for 
this  world,"  said  Mrs.  Meeken,  with  an  air  she  be- 
lieved to  be  pious,  but  which  was  merely  cunning. 

"Oh,  she's  not  any  worse,"  said  Pollyooly  coldly; 
and  she  went  on  briskly  down  the  stairs. 

But  Mrs.  Meeken's  inquiry  had  banished  her 
peace  of  mind;  and  she  walked  down  the  King's 
Bench  Walk  on  lagging  feet,  her  brow  puckered  by 
an  anxious  frown. 

None  the  less,  in  spite  of  her  carking  care,  as  she 
turned  into  Alsatia  she  assumed  a  truculent  air, 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  21 

which  sat  but  curiously  on  her  slender  form,  and 
swaggered  up  to  the  door  of  the  house  in  which 
she  lived.  As  she  came  to  it,  a  careless,  but  active 
little  boy  of  her  own  size  came  running  out  of  it. 
With  the  spring  of  a  panther  Pollyooly  was  upon 
him,  her  fingers  clenched  in  his  abundant  hair. 

"I'll  teach  you  to  call  me  'Ginger/  Henry  Wig- 
gins," she  said,  and  she  smacked  him  with  striking 
vigor. 

Henry  yelled  and  scratched  and  kicked,  but  not  till 
she  had  lavished  on  him  his  due  meed  of  smacks  did 
Pollyooly  loosen  her  grip.  Henry  bolted,  howling, 
down  the  street,  and  Pollyooly  went  up  the  stairs 
smiling  the  serene  smile  of  one  who  had  done  her 
duty  and  done  it  well. 

For  the  next  twenty  days  Pollyooly  retained  her 
two  posts  of  laundress  undisturbed.  Five  or  six 
times  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  and  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins  inquired  how  her  aunt  was ;  and  she  replied 
that  she  was  no  better.  Mrs.  Meeken  was  more  fre- 
quent in  her  inquiries,  and  she  received  the  same 
answer. 

But  Pollyooly  was  not  happy ;  always  the  fear  of 
the  inevitable  discovery  hung  upon  her  spirit,  some- 


22  POLLYOOLY 

times  depressing  it  for  as  long  as  ten  minutes  at  a 
time.  She  was  on  the  way  to  develop  a  cleft  be- 
tween her  eyebrows  from  her  frequent  anxious 
frowns.  Most  children  would  have  taken  a  fort- 
night's security  as  a  guarantee  that  her  secret  would 
remain  for  ever  undiscovered ;  but  Pollyooly  had  too 
active  an  imagination ;  and  the  dreadful  fear  of  find- 
ing herself  and  the  Lump  adrift  on  the  world  was 
always  with  her. 

In  the  meantime  she  was  doing  everything  in  her 
power  to  provide  against  the  evil  day  of  discovery, 
but  her  power  was  not  great.  The  rent  of  their  attic 
was  three  shillings  a  week,  the  Lump's  milk  cost 
another  shilling  and  twopence,  since  her  aunt  had 
held  a  pint  of  milk  a  day  to  be  a  necessity  for  a 
child  of  two;  and  Pollyooly  adhered  firmly  to  the 
practice.  The  stale  bread,  the  bacon- fat,  which  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  spurned,  and  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins  got  no  chance  of  spurning,  and  an  occa- 
sional uneaten  egg,  made  the  chief  part  of  their 
food;  and  there  was  sometimes  a  red-letter  day 
when  too  many  brandies  and  sodas  on  the  top  of  too 
much  champagne  made  even  his  beloved  bacon  ab- 
horrent to  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  and  Pollyooly 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  23 

brought  home  six  slices  of  untouched  bacon  and  two 
boiled,  but  uneaten  eggs. 

But  in  spite  of  these  heavy  demands  on  her  slen- 
der purse,  Pollyooly  had  contrived  to  raise  the 
twenty-two  shillings  bequeathed  by  her  aunt  to 
thirty-four  shillings  and  sixpence ;  and  she  reckoned 
that,  even  if  the  evil  day  of  discharge  came  upon  her 
at  once,  she  could  support  the  pair  of  them  for  an- 
other month,  or  even  five  weeks,  while  she  sought 
work  in  the  place  of  the  posts  she  had  lost. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  twenty-first  day  she 
brought  the  toddling  Lump  out  of  the  house  to  es- 
cort him  to  gardens  on  the  Thames  Embankment  in 
which  he  was  wont  to  take  the  fresh  air  which  kept 
him  chubby,  and  passed  Mrs.  Meeken  a  few  steps 
from  their  door.  The  sight  of  Mrs.  Meeken  in  Al- 
satia  was  disquieting  enough ;  but  the  look  of  cun- 
ning triumph  which  that  good  lady  bestowed  on  her, 
as  she  passed,  was  more  disquieting  still,  and  stirred 
in  Pollyooly  a  strong  qualm  of  uneasiness.  The 
sun  was  shining  too  brightly  for  the  uneasiness  to 
last;  but  if  she  had  known  how  Mrs.  Meeken  had 
been  spending  her  time,  no  sunshine  would  have 
eased  her  mind. 


24  POLLYOOLY 

Mrs.  Meeken  was  one  of  the  genuine,  old-fash- 
ioned Temple  laundresses,  who  apparently  earned 
that  title  by  washing  nothing,  not  even  themselves. 
She  was  slovenly,  dirty,  dishonest,  and  gin-sodden. 
Indeed,  from  her  aroma  she  might  have  been  a  per- 
ambulating juniper  tree.  She  had  resented  bitterly 
the  intrusion  of  Hannah  Bride  into  No.  75  in  the 
King's  Bench  Walk,  because  she  had  expected  on  the 
death  of  her  no  less  gin-sodden  crony,  Hannah 
Bride's  predecessor,  to  obtain  herself  the  post  of 
laundress  to  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  and  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins.  She  could  not,  indeed,  have  done 
the  work  of  four  sets  of  chambers,  but  that  would 
not  have  distressed  her  at  all,  as  long  as  she  was 
drawing  the  money,  and  enjoying  double  the  quan- 
tity of  gin.  Her  original  bitterness  had  been  in- 
creased by  a  distinct  lack  of  sociability  on  the  part 
of  Hannah  Bride,  who  had  not  only  failed  to  treat 
her  to  gin,  but  had  refused  to  come  and  be  treated, 
with  a  contemptuous  asperity  exceedingly  galling  to 
a  highly  spirituous  woman.  Her  rival's  prolonged 
absence  from  her  work  had  awakened  in  Mrs.  Meek- 
en  the  strong  hope  that  she  was  too  ill  to  return, 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  25 

and  that  the  coveted  posts  would  at  last  fall  to  her 
lot. 

Mrs.  Meeken  was  not  an  active  woman,  natur- 
ally, since  gin  in  excess  does  not  tend  to  conserve 
the  energy  even  of  the  sprightly;  and  sprightly,  even 
in  her  bright,  unwashed  youth,  Mrs.  Meeken  had 
never  been.  But  her  passionate  desire  for  gin  had 
urged  her  to  a  splendid  effort.  She  had  torn  her- 
self for  a  whole  hour  from  the  public  bar  of  the 
Prince  of  Wales'  Head,  an  old-time  tavern,  grown 
flamboyant  with  the  years,  which  she  and  several  of 
her  friends  used  as  a  club  in  which  to  spend  their 
thirsty  afternoons,  and  had  betaken  herself  to  Alsatia 
in  search  of  information  about  her  sick  supplanter. 

Her  effort  had  been  gloriously  rewarded.  She 
had  learned  to  her  infinite  amazement  and  delight 
that  Hannah  Bride  had  been  dead  for  more  than 
three  weeks.  She  argued,  very  justly,  that  Polly- 
ooly  would  not  have  withheld  this  fact  from  her 
unless  she  were  also  withholding  it  from  her  employ- 
ers, that  she  was  keeping  her  aunt's  posts  under  false 
pretenses.  With  infinite  joy  she  saw  her  way  to 
take  a  vicarious  vengeance  on  her  detested  sup- 


26  POLLYOOLY 

planter.  Glorious  visions  of  unlimited  gin  floated 
before  the  rheumy  vision  of  what  she  had  of  a  mind. 

Mrs.  Meeken  has  since,  with  some  alcoholic  sud- 
denness, been  taken  to  her  mothers.  The  good  so- 
ciologist can  not  regard  the  world  as  much  the  worse 
for  her  loss. 

It  was  about  six  o'clock  that  evening,  what  time 
Pollyooly,  unconscious  of  her  doom,  was  peacefully 
washing  the  sleepy  Lump  before  putting  him  to  bed, 
that  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  became  aware,  chief- 
ly through  the  medium  of  his  olfactory  nerve,  of  the 
presence  of  Mrs.  Meeken  waiting  at  his  door,  and 
gave  a  curt,  but  grudging,  assent  to  her  request  for 
an  interview.  He  led  the  way  into  his  sitting-room, 
lighted  the  gas,  and  surveyed  his  visitor  with  an  ex- 
pression of  considerable  disfavor. 

"If  you  please,  sir,  it's  about  that  little  gel  what 
does  your  work,  sir,  that  I've  been  wyting  to  speak 
to  you,  sir.  It  bein'  only  my  plyne  dooty,  sir,"  said 
Mrs.  Meeken. 

"Your  duty  would  be  plain,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin,  looking  critically  at  Mrs.  Meeken's  ill- 
favored  face. 

"Yes,  sir ;  it  were ;  an'  what  I've  come  to  tell  yer, 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  27 

sir,  is  as  that  there  little  gel  'as  bin  deceivin'  you, 
sir,  most  shameful — the  hartful  little  'uzzy,  she  is," 
said  Mrs.  Meeken,  with  an  admirable  display  of  vir- 
tuous indignation. 

"How  rarely  do  we  find  beauty  and  virtue  con- 
joined," said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  sadly,  but 
in  a  guarded  tone. 

"You  mye  well  say  so,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Meeken 
piously.  "An'  when  I  'card  this  very  afternoon  as 
ever  was  as  'o\v  that  little  'uzzy's  aunt  was  dead,  an' 
'ad  been  dead  this  three  weeks,  an'  you  knowin' 
nothink  about  it,  Hi  sez  to  myself,  'Not  a  single 
wink  of  sleep  will  you  get  this  night,  Maria  Meeken, 
knowin'  as  'ow  those  two  poor  gentlemen  are  bein' 
hart  fully  deceived,  hunless  you  hups  an'  houts  wiv 
it." 

"In  matter  of  morals  one  should  never  wait,"  said 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  sententiously.  "I  con- 
gratulate you,  Mrs.  Meeken,  on  the  speed  with 
which  you  have  performed  this  painful  duty.  Good 
evening." 

Mrs.  Meeken's  face  fell;  and  she  looked  at  him 
with  a  sudden,  uneasy  surprise.  Then  she  said, 
"You'll  be  wantin'  a  laundress,  sir," 


28  POLLYOOLY 

"You  are  wrong,  Mrs.  Meeken — what  I  shall  be 
wanting — what  I  am  wanting  is  a  valet,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin,  in  a  very  firm  voice. 

"And  well  did  I  know  it,"  said  Mrs.  Meeken, 
cheering  up.  "An'  offen  an'  offen  'ave  I  said  to  my- 
self, 'If  Mr.  Ruffin  would  let  me  walet  them  there 
rooms  of  'is,  'e  wouldn't  know  'isself,  or  them." 

Another  whiff  of  Mrs.  Meeken  struck  on  the  sen- 
sitive nostrils  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  and  he 
shuddered.  "I  can  well  believe  it,"  he  said  coldly. 
"But  I  am  afraid  that  the  proprieties  would  not  per- 
mit of  my  being  valeted  by  a  married  woman." 

"But  Hi'm  a  widder,  sir — a  lone  widder,"  said 
Mrs.  Meeken. 

"Thrice  fortunate  Mr.  Meeken,"  said  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin.  "But  there  would  be  even  less 
propriety  in  a  widowed  valet  than  a  married  one." 

"But  you'll  be  wantin'  some  one  to  attend  to  you, 
sir.  That  there  little'uzzy  can't  do  rooms  like  these 
properly.  She  can't  keep  them  clean — not  what  I 
calls  clean,"  cried  Mrs.  Meeken,  persisting  in  her 
effort  to  realize  her  golden  vision  of  gin. 

"I  should  think  that  very  likely  indeed,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin.  "But  it  is  wiser  to  endure 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  29 

the  evils  we  have  than  to  fly,  to  those  we  smell. 
Good  evening,  Mrs.  Meeken.  You  will  find  the 
front  door  open.  I  left  it  open." 

Gathering  from  his  tone  that  she  had  failed  in  her 
mission,  a  change  came  over  the  spirit  of  Mrs.  Meek- 
en.  She  lost  the  generous  air  of  the  philanthropist 
and  regarded  the  young  man  she  had  striven  to 
benefit,  with  a  bitter  scowl.  Then  she  took  two 
steps  toward  the  door,  paused,  and  said,  with  a 
bitterness  of  tone  which  matched  her  scowl,  that  had 
she  been  aware  of  the  insensibility  of  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  to  what  was  right  and  proper,  she 
would  never  have  taken  the  trouble  to  inform  him  of 
Pollyooly's  deceit. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  gazed  calmly  at  her, 
unmoved  and,  to  all  seeming,  ungrateful. 

Mrs.  Meeken  advanced  two  more  steps  toward 
the  door,  paused  again,  and  said  truculently  that  she 
expected  a  gentleman  who  was  a  gentleman  to  re- 
ward her  handsomely  for  the  services  she  rendered 
him. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  smiled  agreeably  and 
said,  "Virtue,  Mrs.  Meeken — virtue  is  its  own  re- 
ward." 


30  POLLYOOLY 

Mrs.  Meeken  gazed  for  a  moment  at  his  placid 
face  and  with  a  snort  expressive  of  a  whole  tumult 
of  emotions,  all  of  them  unpleasant,  left  his  room 
and  his  chambers. 

She  was  compelled  by  the  violence  of  the  emo- 
tions his  insensibility  and  ingratitude  had  awakened 
in  her  to  descend  the  stairs  at  a  considerable  speed 
and  betake  herself  to  the  very  nearest  tavern.  There 
she  revived  her  flagging  energy  and  further  inflamed 
her  philanthropic  ardor.  Then  she  climbed  the  stairs 
again  and  awaited  the  coming  of  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins. 

He  received  her  information  in  a  very  different 
and  far  more  gratifying  spirit.  Deceit,  when  applied 
to  himself,  he  could  not  bear;  and  his  righteous  in- 
dignation at  the  conduct  of  Pollyooly  matched  Mrs. 
Meeken's  own. 

He  expressed  it  in  whirling  words;  and  Mrs. 
Meeken,  appreciated  and  appeased,  heard  him  shout 
himself  out,  with  a  considerable  pleasure. 

Then  she  put  forward  her  contention  that  a  child 
of  Pollyooly's  tender  years  could  not  possibly  keep 
hid  rooms  in  the  immaculate  condition  a  woman  of 
her  experience  could.  The  contention  appealed  to 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  31 

the  reason  by  which  he  guided  his  regular  life;  and 
after  a  short  discussion  in  which  they  settled  the 
matter  of  her  wages,  he  engaged  her  in  Polly ooly's 
place.  It  must,  in  all  fairness,  be  urged  in  his  excuse 
that  he  lacked  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  sensitive- 
ness of  nostril. 

Mrs.  Meeken  returned  to  the  Prince  of  Wales' 
head  in  triumph,  the  proudest  woman  in  London. 
She  had  vindicated  the  straight,  undeceptive  path 
and  in  performing  this  noble  deed,  gained  the  desire 
of  her  heart. 

Pollyooly  came  to  her  work  next  morning  unwit- 
ting of  the  misfortune  which  had  befallen  her.  She 
only  learned  it  from  the  sight,  and  smell,  of  Mrs. 
Meeken  in  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins'  kitchen ;  and  at  that 
sight  the  hue  of  wild  roses  which  faintly  stained  her 
clear  pale  cheeks  faded  from  them  utterly. 

The  good  woman  greeted  her  with  a  malevolent 
grin  of  triumph  and  said,  "It's  all  up  with  you  'ere, 
you  bryzen  little  'uzzy.  'E's  a-wytin'  for  you,  'e  is ; 
an'  I  wouldn't  be  in  your  shoes  not  for  nothink,  I 
wouldn't.  In  you  go." 

In  Pollyooly  went,  and  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  re- 
ceived her  with  a  scowl  and  a  terrible  snort  of  indig- 


32  POLLYOOLY 

nation.  His  righteous  wrath  was  much  increased  by 
the  fact  that  for  the  last  hour  he  had  been  engaged 
in  preparing  the  defense  of  an  uncommonly  violent 
burglar,  of  whose  guilt  he  himself  was  perfectly  as- 
sured, and  had  found  it  extremely  difficult  to  find 
any  means  by  which  he  could  possibly  hope  to  con- 
vince any  passably  intelligent  jury  of  his  innocence. 
At  the  sight  of  Polly ooly,  in  his  best  forensic  man- 
ner, he  burst  forthwith  into  a  loud,  but  impassioned, 
harangue  on  the  vileness  of  lying  and  deceit. 

Pollyooly  heard  him  patiently  to  the  end  of  it; 
but  since  she  prided  herself  on  the  veracity  her  aunt 
had  so  firmly  instilled  into  her,  her  spirit  began  to 
glow ;  and  she  said  with  some  heat,  "I  didn't  tell  any 
lie,  sir ;  I  wouldn't.  I  said  that  my  aunt  wasn't  any 
better,  and  she  wasn't.  How  could  she  be  when  she 
was  dead?" 

For  a  moment  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  was  taken 
aback  by  the  justness  of  this  reasoning;  then  he 
cried,  with  even  more  eloquent  indignation,  and  an 
even  redder  face,  "It  was  worse;  you  acted  a  lie— 
you  deliberately  acted  a  lie.  Oh,  I  see  a  black  future 
before  you!  If,  at  the  age  of  twelve,  you  can  form 
a  dishonest  plan  of  this  kind,  and  carry  it  out  with 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  33 

this — this  cool  and  unswerving  deliberation,  at 
twenty  you  will  be  a  callous  and  hardened  criminal 
of  the  most  abandoned  type." 

"It  was  for  the  Lump,"  said  Pollyooly  somewhat 
faintly,  for  she  was  shaken  by  the  terrible  picture  he 
had  painted. 

"Not  a  word!"  cried  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  in  a 
terrible  voice.  "I  have  done  with  you !  I  discharge 
you.  Here  is  seven  shillings — two  shillings  for  your 
work  from  Saturday  to  to-day,  and  five  shillings  in 
lieu  of  a  week's  notice."  And  he  banged  down 
seven  shillings  on  the  table. 

Pollyooly  gave  a  little  gasp  of  surprise  and  relief. 
Her  spirit  lightened.  She  had  expected  to  be  sent 
about  her  business  with  no  money  at  all.  She  caught 
up  the  seven  shillings  quickly,  said,  "Good  morning, 
sir,"  and  hurried  out  of  the  room  with  it  lest  he 
should  change  his  mind  about  paying  it. 

As  she  came  down  the  passage,  Mrs.  Meeken  said, 
"That'll  learn  you  to  go  taking  a  honest  woman's 
bread  out  of  'er  mouf,  you  little  'uzzy.  An'  Mr. 
RufHn  is  that  wild,  I'm  afraid  to  go  near  him." 

Pollyooly  gazed  at  her  perhaps  ten  seconds  with 
eyes  that  blazed ;  then  she  made  the  hideous  face  of 


34  POLLYOOLY 

an  unregenerate  and  unbroken  spirit  at  her,  and 
walked  out  of  the  door  with  a  fine,  defiant  air. 

But  her  heart  was  heavy  within  her  as  she  swept 
and  dusted  the  Honorable  John  Ruffhrs  sitting- 
room.  The  only  bright  spot  in  her  future  was  the 
seven  shillings  in  her  pocket.  That  meant  another 
eight  days  at  least,  perhaps  ten,  in  which  to  seek 
work.  All  the  while  she  cudgeled  her  small  but  ac- 
tive brain  for  a  plan  of  getting  work,  but  in  vain. 
When  she  heard  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  his 
bath,  she  retired  to  the  kitchen  in  a  panic,  her  little 
heart  hammered  so  furiously  against  her  ribs  that 
she  had  to  press  her  hand  against  it  to  quiet  it. 

She  grilled  his  bacon  with  the  greatest  care,  re- 
solved that  the  last  meal  she  cooked  him  should  be 
as  good  as  she  could  make  it.  She  had  parted  from 
Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  without  a  pang  beyond  that  at 
losing  five  shillings  a  week ;  but  the  thought  of  leav- 
ing the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  filled  her  with  regret. 
His  unfailing  kindliness,  the  gentleness  with  which 
he  always  spoke  to  her,  the  appreciation  he  always 
accorded  to  her  careful  efforts  to  grill  his  bacon  to 
perfection,  the  flattering  tributes  he  paid  to  her 
looks,  even  to  her  red  hair,  had  filled  her  with  a 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  35 

feeling  stronger  than  liking  for  him.  She  was  in- 
deed coming  to  grow  fond  of  him.  Her  childish 
admiration  of  him  was  immense;  she  listened  to  his 
talk,  so  often  incomprehensible,  with  the  most  re- 
spectful admiration.  It  was  but  natural  that  she 
should  look  forward  to  his  anger  with  acute  distress. 
In  her  shrinking  from  it  she  kept  him  waiting  for 
his  breakfast  a  good  three  minutes. 

Then  she  carried  the  dish  of  bacon  into  his  sitting- 
room  with  shaking  hands;  but  she  was  relieved  to 
perceive,  from  a  quick  glance  at  his  face,  that  he 
wore  an  air  of  serenity  which  seemed  to  promise 
that  his  anger  would  not  be  very  dreadful.  But 
when  she  had  set  the  dish  on  the  table,  her  heart 
failed  her ;  and  it  was  only  by  a  violent  effort  that 
she  refrained  from  bolting  from  the  room,  and  be- 
gan, with  trembling,  fumbling  fingers,  to  gather  up 
the  scattered  garments  which  he  had  decided  not  to 
wear  that  day. 

He  was  not  in  a  talkative  humor  that  morning; 
and  when  she  saw  that  he  had  finished  his  fourth 
slice  of  bacon,  she  went  to  the  kitchen,  put  the  two 
eggs  into  the  water  ready  boiling  for  them,  and 
turned  the  sand-glass  upside  down. 


36  POLLYOOLY 

Just  before  the  last  of  the  sand  had  trickled 
from  the  top  of  it  into  the  bottom,  she  took  them  out 
of  the  boiling  water  and  carried  them  to  him. 

She  had  set  them  before  him,  and  was  taking 
away  the  dirty  plate,  when  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  said  gravely,  "A  noble  type  of  English 
womanhood,  one  Mrs.  Meeken,  has  informed  me 
that  you  have  been  deceiving  me,  Pollyooly." 

Pollyooly  gasped  and  flushed  and  stood  still  and 
stared  at  him  with  frightened  eyes,  plucking  ner- 
vously at  her  frock. 

"I  will  not  disguise  from  you  that  your  conduct 
has  saddened  me,"  he  said  in  a  mournful  tone,  break- 
ing the  top  of  one  of  the  eggs.  "It  is  on  a  par  with 
the  way  in  which  your  agreeable  sex  has  always 
treated  me.  It  is  a  sad  blow — a  bitter  blow,  in- 
deed. Yet  I  should  have  known  that  your  transcen- 
dent power  of  grilling  bacon  was  incompatible  with 
sterner  virtues." 

"I  wouldn't  have  done  it,  not  to  you,  sir,  if  it  had 
only  been  me.  But  there  was  the  Lump.  And  I 
knew  that  you  wouldn't  think  that  I  could  do  for 
you  as  well  as  a  grown-up  laundress,"  said  Polly- 
ooly in  a  trembling  voice ;  and  she  wrung  her  hands. 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  37 

"The  modesty  of  great  minds.  I  might  have  ex- 
pected it.  And  yet  I  have  assured  you  again  and 
again  that  your  method  of  grilling  bacon  shows  un- 
doubted genius,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
sententiously ;  and  then  his  kindly  gray  eyes  grew 
keen  as  he  added,  "But  how  does  your  brother 
Roger,  a  child  of  even  tenderer  years  than  your  own, 
come  to  be  a  well-spring  of  deceit." 

"I'm  not  going  to  let  him  go  to  the  workhouse," 
said  Pollyooly. 

"A  laudable  ambition.  Am  I  to  take  it  that  the 
ten  shillings  a  week  which  I  and  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins  pay  you  stands  between  your  brother  and  the 
workhouse  ?"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

"I've  saved  up  twenty-one  shillings,  and  there's 
twenty-two  shillings  aunt  had  saved,"  said  Polly- 
ooly with  a  note  of  courage  in  her  tone,  inspired 
by  the  greatness  of  the  sums. 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  you  have  saved  twenty- 
one  shillings  out  of  the  ten  shillings  a  week  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  and  I  have  paid  you  during  the  last 
three  weeks?" 

"Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  has  just  paid  me  seven 
shillings  when  he  discharged  me,"  said  Pollyooly. 


38  POLLYOOLY 

"So  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  discharged  you  on  in- 
formation received  from  Mrs.  Meeken,  did  he?  A 
lofty-minded  fellow,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin ;  and  his  gray  eyes  darkened  as  they  sparkled. 
"And  so  now  only  five  shillings  a  week  stand  be- 
tween the  Lump  and  the  workhouse?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Ours  is  a  wonderful  civilization!"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  with  warm  enthusiasm.  "I  trust, 
Pollyooly,  that  you  are  properly  thankful  that  you 
are  a  happy  English  child,  living  in  the  heart  of  the 
greatest  and  wealthiest  city  the  world  has  ever 
known." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  a  little  doubtfully. 

He  asked  Pollyooly  how  much  she  paid  in  rent, 
how  much  she  spent  on  food  and  clothes;  then  he 
drew  a  small  handful  of  silver  from  his  pocket, 
looked  at  it,  frowned,  and  said  sadly,  "Lean  years — • 
lean  years." 

He  reflected  for  a  moment;  then  he  said,  "As  I 
expected,  rent  is  your  chief  burden.  I  suppose  you 
occupy  a  furnished  apartment." 

"Oh,  no,  sir,  there  aren't  any  furnished  apart- 
ments at  three  shillings  a  week.  Aunt  Hannah 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  39 

brought  her  own  furniture  from  Muttle-Deeping," 
said  Pollyooly,  somewhat  apathetically.  The  sub- 
ject, at  the  moment,  had  little  interest  for  her;  she 
was  awaiting  sentence. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  face  cleared.  "That 
does  simplify  matters,"  he  said  in  a  cheerful  tone. 
"Now  I  have  had  a  great  deal  of  experience  for  my 
years — which  are  not  as  many,  Pollyooly,  as  I  am 
sure  you  believe — and  my  advice  to  a  young  man  or 
young1  woman  beginning  the  world  is  first  of  alt  to 
have  a  good  address.  That's  what  you  need,  Polly- 
ooly— a  good  address." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"How  would  it  be  if  you  came  to  live  here?" 

"But — but  aren't  I  to  go?  Are  you  keeping  me 
on,  sir?"  stammered  Pollyooly;  and  she  stared  at 
him  with  amazed  eyes,  as  if  she  could  not  believe 
her  ears,  which  was,  indeed,  the  case. 

"Of  course,  I'm  keeping  you  on,"  said  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  in  some  surprise.  "Your  trans- 
cendent power  of  grilling  bacon  has  touched  my 
heart.  Besides,  for  generations  my  family  has  been 
patrons  of  genius." 

In  her  relief  Pollyooly  gave  a  great  gasp,  and  then 


40  POLLYOOLY 

she  burst  out  crying.  The  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
looked  at  her  with  an  expression  of  extreme  dis- 
comfort for  a  minute  or  two;  then  he  rose,  patted 
her  gently  on  the  shoulder,  and  begged  her  to  stop. 

Tears  were  really  foreign  to  Pollyooly's  stren- 
uous nature,  and  they  soon  ceased.  The  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  resumed  his  seat  with  an  air  of  consid- 
erable relief. 

He  went  on  with  his  breakfast,  till  she  grew  quite 
calm.  Then  he  said,  "Well,  Seventy-five,  the  King's 
Bench  Walk  is  a  very  good  address — it  is  my  own. 
If  you  and  your  brother,  who,  as  I  gather  from  his 
name,  is  a  boy  of  pacific  tendencies,  were  to  remove 
your  furniture  to  the  garret  above  this  room,  and  take 
up  your  abodes  there, you  would  be  supplied  with  that 
indispensable  requirement  to  a  successful  modern 
career.  Moreover,  I  have  long  felt  that  it  is  abso- 
lutely wrong,  in  the  present  congested  condition  of 
housing  in  central  London,  to  keep  that  garret 
empty.  It  is  an  airy  room,  but  a  good  oil  stove  in 
the  winter  would  make  it  quite  habitable  for  the 
young  and  hardy." 

"But  the  rent,  sir  ...  a  room  like  that," 
gasped  Pollyooly. 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  41 

"Yes ;  I  could  not  charge  you  less  than  a  shilling  a 
week  rent  owing1  to  the  economic  law  of  supply  and 
demand.  Intrinsically  it  can  not  be  worth  sixpence. 
Yet  who  am  I  to  fly  in  the  face  of  Political  Econ- 
omy? But  as  I  have  for  some  time  intended  to 
raise  your  salary,  as  a  mark  of  my  appreciation  of 
your  skill  in  grilling  bacon,  to  six  shillings  a  week 
you  will  be  able  to  pay  a  shilling  a  week,  and  still 
save  three  shillings.  So  that  puts  the  matter  on  a 
purely  business  footing.  There  is  no  obligation  on 
either  side." 

"Oh,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  breathlessly. 

"You  had  better  have  your  furniture  brought  in 
as  soon  as  possible;  and  as  is  the  custom  of  intelli- 
gent London  landlords,  I  will  pay  the  cost  of  its 
removal." 

"Oh,  thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly;  and  her 
eyes  shone  on  him  with  a  devouring  gratitude. 

"Not  a  word,  not  a  word,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin,  with  a  graceful  wave  of  his  hand. 
"Business  is  business.  I  have  no  doubt  that  with 
this  good  address  you  will  soon  get  another  post  as 
laundress,  and  double  your  income." 

For  a  while  PoUyooly  did  not  know  whether  she 


42  POLLYOOLY 

stood  on  her  head  or  her  heels  so  great  were  her  jo;r 
and  relief  at  the  passing  of  the  black  cloud  which 
had  lowered  over  their  fortunes.  Her  fingers,  usu- 
ally so  deft,  fumbled  the  crockery;  and  she  nearly 
let  a  plate  fall.  Her  nimble  feet  stumbled  twice  on 
the  stairs.  There  was  a  fine  flush  on  her  cheeks; 
and  her  eyes  shone  all  the  while. 

When  she  had  finished  her  morning's  work  she 
hurried  to  Mrs.  Brown  with  the  joyful  news.  Mrs. 
Brown  was  delighted  by  Pollyooly's  good  fortune, 
and  then  she  was  saddened  by  the  thought  that  she 
would  enjoy  less  of  the  society  of  the  Lump,  who 
had  been  wont  to  spend  with  her  the  hours  during 
which  Pollyooly  worked.  Pollyooly  comforted  her 
by  telling  her  that  she  would  bring  the  Lump  to 
visit  her  as  often  as  she  liked :  Then  Mrs.  Brown 
said  that  she  had  always  expected  it,  that  all  was  well 
that  ended  well,  and  that  Heaven  helped  those  that 
helped  themselves. 

Then  Pollyooly  sought  out  the  father  of  Henry 
Wiggins,  who  earned  a  somewhat  precarious  liveli- 
hood by  doing  odd  jobs  about  the  Temple,  and  after 
some  stern  bartering  arranged  with  him  to  transfer 
her  belongings  from  the  attic  in  Alsatia  to  the  attic 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  43 

in  the  King's  Bench  Walk  for  the  sum  of  three 
shillings. 

Then  she  betook  herself  to  that  attic,  taking  the 
Lump  with  her,  and  set  about  scrubbing  and  clean- 
ing it  with  joyous  vigor.  Now  and  again  she  had  to 
stop  to  hug  the  Lump  and  tell  him  yet  once  more  the 
story  of  their  good  fortune. 

By  four  o'clock  she  had  finished  cleaning  it.  The 
walls  must  have  been  whitewashed  within  the  last 
two  or  three  months,  because  after  she  had  brushed 
them  they  were  quite  white.  Then  Mr.  Wiggins  in 
three  journeys  carried  her  heavier  belongings  up  to 
the  attic  and  she  carried  the  smaller  ones.  At  half- 
past  five  she  and  the  Lump  took  their  tea  in  one  of 
the  cleanest  attics  in  central  London. 

The  Honorable  John  Rufiin  learned  that  Polly- 
ooly  and  the  Lump  had  taken  up  their  quarters  in 
their  new  home  by  hearing  them  moving  about  over- 
head on  his  first  awakening.  He  turned  over  and 
went  to  sleep  again  peacefully,  quite  untroubled  by 
any  doubts  about  the  results  of  his  philanthropy. 

When  Pollyooly  brought  him  his  bacon,  he  said, 
"So  you  have  established  yourselves  in  your  new 
quarters,  Pollyooly?" 


44  POLLYOOLY 

"Yes,  sir.  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly;  and 
her  eyes  shone  on  him  gratefully. 

He  gazed  at  her  with  a  considerable  pleasure,  few- 
he  was  not  one  of  those  on  whose  aesthetic  sensi- 
bilities the  possession  of  an  angel  child  as  Temple 
laundress  could  pall. 

Then  he  said,  "On  consideration,  Pollyooly,  I 
have  come  to  the  conclusion  that,  now  that  you  have 
become  my  resident  housekeeper,  you  can  no  longer 
be  truly  reckoned  a  Temple  laundress." 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  surveyed  her  gravely 
for  a  minute ;  then  he  went  on,  "Moreover  I  do  not 
think  that  the  name  'Pollyooly'  is  quite  the  name  for 
the  housekeeper  of  a  gentleman  of — of — shall  we 
say,  rank  and  fashion.  It  is  a  position  of  dignity, 
you  know." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  gravely. 

"And  naturally  the  holder  of  a  position  of  dignity 
should  have  a  dignified  name." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Therefore  I  shall  call  you  'Mrs.  Hooley/  "  said 
the  Honorable  John  Rufftn. 
k    ".Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly.     "But  my  name  isn't 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  45 

'Hooley,'  sir.  It's  Bride — like  Aunt  Hannah's;  and 
my  other  name's  'Mary.' ' 

"The  deuce  it  is !"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
in  no  little  surprise.  "I'd  made  up  my  mind  that  it 
was  Hooley — pronounced  '  'Ooley'  in  the  metropol- 
itan fashion." 

"No,  sir.  They  always  called  me  Pollyooly  in- 
stead of  plain  Polly,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  somewhat 
apologetic  tone. 

"Ah,  I  see :  the  'ooly'  is  a  diminutive  affix  express- 
ive of  affection,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
with  an  air  of  enlightenment. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  politely,  though  she 
knew  neither  what  a  diminutive  nor  an  affix  was. 

"Mary  Bride — Mary  Bride,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  in  a  tone  of  thoughtful  approval.  "It's 
an  incredibly  appropriate  name  for  an  angel  child. 
Well,  I  shall  call  you  'Mrs.  Bride.'  " 

"Aren't  I  rather  young  to  be  called  'Mrs.,'  sir?" 
said  Pollyooly  in  a  doubtful  tone. 

"Undoubtedly.  But  housekeepers  are  always 
'Mrs.'  in  the  best  families.  We  must  follow  the 
custom  and  ignore  your  youth,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  firmly. 


46  POLLYOOLY 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Polly ooly. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  surveyed  her  thought- 
fully; then  he  said  in  a  somewhat  rueful  tone,  "I 
feel  that  something  ought  to  be  done  in  the  matter 
of  your  dress.  But,  alas!  the  exchequer  (not  the 
public  exchequer,  of  which  I  intend  to  be  one  day 
chancellor),  but  my  own  private  exchequer  is 
empty." 

Pollyooly  looked  ruefully  down  at  her  oft- washed 
blue  print  frock,  which  had  grown  uncommonly 
short  in  the  skirt;  and,  a  faint  flush  mantled  her 
cheeks. 

"Mrs.  Brown  is  going  to  make  me  a  new  frock, 
sir,  when  I  get  the  stuff,"  she  said. 

"I  must  get  the  stuff — as  soon  as  something  in  the 
nature  of  a  ship  comes  home,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin.  "My  mother  used  to  give  all  the  maids 
what,  I  believe,  are  called  'dress-lengths,'  every 
Christmas ;  and  we  must  not  let  the  fact  that  Christ- 
mas has  stolen  several  months'  march  on  us  cause 
any  breach  of  a  time-honored  custom.  Only  the  time 
is  not  yet." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly.  "And  in  the 
afternoon,  sir,  when  I  have  done  my  work  and  you 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  47 

have  visitors,  I  can  wear  my  new  black  frock,  the 
one  that  came  out  of  the  burial-money." 

"Good,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin.  "That 
will  tide  us  over  the  present  crisis." 

He  found  no  reason  to  regret  that  he  had  estab- 
lished Pollyooly  and  the  Lump  in  his  attic.  He  had 
been  right  in  supposing  that  the  Lump  had  gained 
his  name  from  the  enjoyment  of  a  pacific  nature. 
He  never  heard  his  voice  raised  in  a  wail  or  a  whim- 
per. Indeed,  he  seemed  a  noiseless  child.  It  also 
pleased  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  greatly  that  he 
should  be  an  authentic,  but  red-haired,  cherub,  the 
perfect  match  of  his  angel  sister.  The  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  had  a  very  strong  sense  of  the  fitness  of 
things ;  and  he  would  not  for  the  world  have  had  it 
ruffled. 

Pollyooly  was  considerably  surprised  by  his  mak- 
ing, or  rather  trying  to  make,  a  change  in  his  diet. 
At  least  once  a  week  he  would  order  in  a  cold  roast 
chicken  or  a  tongue,  from  Messrs.  Spiers  and  Pond, 
with  whom,  for  some  quite  inexplicable  reason,  his 
credit  was  good,  and  eat  a  scrap  of  it  after  his  eggs 
at  breakfast. 

Always  he  said,  as  he  laid  down  his  knife  and 


48  POLLYOOLY 

fork :  "It  is  no  use,  Pollyooly.  In  vain  I  try  to  train 
myself  to  become  a  fine  old  English  gentleman,  one 
of  the  olden  time.  I  can  not  bring  myself  to  devour 
these  solid  meats  at  breakfast.  Do  not  let  my  appe- 
tite be  weakened  by  the  sight  of  this  severe  dish 
again.  Take  it  away  and  eat  it  up  at  the  hours  at 
which  it  is  appropriate." 

Pollyooly  always  thanked  him  gratefully.  She 
needed  to  spend  no  money  at  all  on  solid  foods,  only 
on  the  Lump's  milk.  She  found  herself  growing  af- 
fluent in  the  midst  of  luxury. 

She  contrived  to  see  very  little  of  Mrs.  Meeken. 
It  was  not  only  that  she  disliked  the  scent  with 
which  the  air  round  that  old-time  type  of  English 
womanhood  was  laden,  but  also  she  shunned  her  be- 
cause she  brought  back  the  painful  memory  of  her 
dark  hour.  Sometimes  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  passed 
her  on  the  stairs,  drawing  aside  the  skirt  of  his  bar- 
rister's robe,  as  if  he  feared  it  would  be  contam- 
inated by  brushing  against  her.  That  Pollyooly  did 
not  mind  at  all.  She  had  never  respected  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins.  Besides  she  was  quite  sure  that  were  the 
deception  to  be  practised  again,  for  the  Lump's  sake 
she  would  practise  it  again. 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  49 

She  had  been  established  some  ten  days  in  her  new 
home,  when  one  morning  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  and 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  came  out  of  the  doors 
of  their  respective  chambers  at  the  same  moment,  on 
their  way  to  the  Law  Courts.  They  greeted  each 
other  amicably  enough,  though  either  enjoyed  some- 
thing of  the  contempt  for  the  other  of  the  ant  for  the 
butterfly  and  of  the  butterfly  for  the  ant  Neither 
contempt  was  really  well-grounded,  for  there  was 
more  of  the  ant  in  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  and 
more  of  the  butterfly  in  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  than 
either  of  them  dreamed. 

They  walked  down  the  stairs  in  the  dignified  fash- 
ion their  robes  demanded,  talking,  with  the  English- 
man's passionate  interest,  of  the  weather. 

But  as  they  were  crossing  the  King's  Bench  Walk, 
Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  said,  "I  see  that  you've  kept  on 
that  dishonest  little  girl,  in  spite  of  the  way  she 
tricked  us  about  her  aunt's  death,  as  your  laun- 
dress." 

"No,  not  my  laundress;  she  is  my  housekeeper — 
my  resident  housekeeper,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  coldly. 

"Well,  all  I  can  say  is,  it's  putting  a  premium  on 


50  POLLYOOLY 

dishonesty,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  in  a  firmly 
moral  tone. 

"I  am  quite  sure  that  Pollyooly  is  as  honest  as  the 
day,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin;  and  his  eyes 
sparkled. 

"Well,  on  deception  then,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins. 

"As  long  as  they  do  their  work  and  do  not  rob 
him  a  gentleman  has  no  concern  whatever  with  the 
morals  of  his  servants.  I  leave  that  kind  of  thing  to 
the  middle  classes,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
haughtily. 

"The  morals  of  our  servants  concern  us  very 
deeply,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  ponderously. 
"And  mark  my  words :  you'll  live  to  regret  having 
that  child  about — the  deceitful  little  minx!" 

"Evidently  you  have  never  come  across  a  real 
minx,  or  you  wouldn't  call  Pollyooly  one.  I  hope 
you'll  come  across  one  very  soon.  She'd  do  you  a 
world  of  good,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
amiably. 

"That  child  will  rob  you  to  a  dead  certainty,"  said 
Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  with  solemn  conviction. 

"Well,  if  she  does — not  that  I  believe  for  an  in- 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  51 

stant  she  will — I  shall  never  know  it.  Pollyooly  is 
very  intelligent,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
flippantly.  "At  any  rate  she1  is  not  a  perpetual  tor- 
ture to  my  olfactory  nerve.  She  doesn't  smell  like 
ail  Indian  village  at  Earl's  Court." 

"I  attach  far  more  importance  to  honesty,"  said 
Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  even  more  ponderously. 

"I  hope  you've  got  it,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  in  a  tone  of  considerable  doubt.  Then  he 
added  warmly,  "Why,  hang  it  all!  If  Pollyooly 
hadn't  tried  to  keep  her  little  brother  out  of  the 
workhouse  by  concealing  the  fact  that  a  black- 
guardly road-hog  had  run  over  her  unfortunate 
aunt,  I  should  have  thought  very  poorly  of  her  in- 
deed." 

"Ah,  you're  one  of  our  unmoral  aristocracy," 
said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  in  a  tone  of  sad  indul- 
gence. "I'm  a  plain  Englishman." 

"And  you've  got  a  plain  Englishwoman — a  devil- 
ish plain  Englishwoman — for  housekeeper.  So  if 
you're  not  happy,  you  ought  to  be,"  said  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  in  the  tone  of  one  closing  a  dis- 
cussion. 

But  though  he  had  so  firmly  deprecated  the  re- 


52  POLLYOOLY 

tention  of  Pollyooly  after  her  lack  of  openness,  it  is 
to  be  doubted  that  Mrs.  Meeken  brought  true  happi- 
ness to  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins.  The  impression, 
though  he  was  no  expert  in  the  matter,  that  his 
rooms  were  not  so  clean  as  in  the  days  of  Pollyooly, 
was  growing  stronger  and  stronger  in  his  mind. 
Also  he  had  not  failed  to  perceive  the  aroma  which 
Mrs.  Meeken  diffused  into  the  ambient  air  of  the 
King's  Bench  Walk.  The  Honorable  John  Ruffin's 
reference  to  it  had  the  effect  of  making  his  nostrils 
grow  more  sensitive  to  it;  and  he  learned  that  it  was 
a  lingering  aroma  loath  to  leave  a  haunt  so  proper  to 
it  as  his  blackening  chambers.  Other  matters  also 
troubled  him  at  times;  but,  absorbed  in  his  work,  he 
could  give  them  but  little  attention. 

It  was  a  full  ten  days  after  he  had  so  solemnly 
warned  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin.  against  Polly- 
ooly that,  one  morning  as  she  was  on  the  very  point 
of  setting  the  rashers  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
to  grill,  she  heard  a  loud  roaring  from  the  cham- 
bers of  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins.  It  was  a  sound  of  a 
surprising  volume;  and  she  hastily  opened  the  door 
of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  chambers,  to  dis- 
cover what  it  meant,  just  in  time  to  see  Mrs.  Meeken 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  53 

scuttle  forth  from  the  opposite  doorway  with  all  the 
appearance  of  a  panic-stricken,  but  aromatic,  hen. 

Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  stood,  four-square  and 
dreadful,  in  the  doorway  from  which  she  had  flut- 
tered. His  large  face  was  flushed;  and  his  eyes 
glowed  with  a  volcanic  indignation. 

"Go!"  he  bellowed  in  a  terrible  voice.  "My 
weekly  bill  has  gone  up  seven  shillings !  My  rooms 
are1  filthy!  You  have  stolen  half  my  underlinen! 
You  have  not  only  stolen  my  whisky,  but  you  have 
watered  what  you  left — watered  it — watered  it!  Go! 
and  never  come  near  the  place  again." 

"I  wants  a  week's  wages  instead  of  notice.  I 
knows  my  rights,"  cried  Mrs.  Meeken,  quavering, 
but  shrill. 

"Not  a  penny !  Not  a  penny !  Go,  or  I'll  throw 
you  down  the  stairs,"  bellowed  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins, 
with  a  quite  extraordinary  air  of  meaning  what  he 
said. 

He  was  plainly  past  the  chivalrous  stage;  and 
Mrs.  Meeken  did  not  wait  She  shuffled  down  the 
stairs  as  fast  as  her  feet  could  slop — there  is  no 
other  word  for  their  curious  action.  As  she  went 
her  voice  rose  in  shrill  lamentation:  this  was  what 


54  POLLYOOLY 

she  got  for  slaving  her  life  out  for  "ha  'ulkin' 
brute"  .  .  .  never  again  as  long  as  she  lived 
would  she  rescue  a  stranger  from  "hartful  'uzzies" 
.  .  .  Oh,  how  mistaken  she  had  been  in  ever 
reckoning  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  a  gentleman ! 

Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  stood  in  his  doorway,  breath- 
ing heavily,  his  heart  still  sore  from  his  unsatis- 
fying encounter  with  watered  whisky  the  night  be- 
fore. The  lament  of  Mrs.  Meeken  came  up  fainter 
from  the  well  of  the  staircase.  An  angelic  smile 
wreathed  the  lips  of  Pollyooly  who  had  been  a  grave 
spectator  of  the  distressing  scene. 

The  eyes  of  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  rested  on  her 
thoughtfully.  His  work  must  not  be  interrupted 
again  by  watered  whisky;  he  shrank  from  the 
trouble  of  seeking  a  new  laundress. 

"You  can  come  back  at  once.  Get  my  breakfast," 
he  said  in  the  surly  tone  of  one  who  reluctantly 
yields  under  the  pressure  of  circumstances. 

Pollyooly's  heart  leaped  with  joy  at  this  sudden, 
unexpected  doubling  of  her  income.  It  was  on  the 
tip  of  her  tongue  to  accept  the  offer.  But  she 
checked  herself,  and  gazed  at  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins 
with  a  cold  eye; 


POLLYOOLY  CHANGES  HER  ADDRESS  55 

"I  couldn't  come  back  for  less  than  six  shillings  a 
week,  sir,"  she  said  firmly.  "It  would  take  me 
ever  so  long  to  get  your  rooms  clean  again  after 
that  dirty  old  woman.  Besides,  you  said  I  told  lies." 

Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  scowled  darkly  at  her.  With- 
out a  word  he  turned  round,  went  back  into  his 
chambers,  and  slammed  the  door.  Pollyooly's  face 
fell  at  this  sudden  fortune's  sudden  flight.  But  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  later  his  door  opened  again,  and 
out  he  came. 

He  walked  across  the  landing  and  said  heavily, 
"I'll  pay  you  six  shillings  a  week.  After  all,  with 
you  I  know  the  worst  that  is  to  be  known,  and  you 
do  not  drink  whisky.  Get  my  breakfast." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly,  with  an  angel 
smile ;  and  she  dropped  a  curtsey. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE  SIEGE 

FOR  a  while  life  moved  smoothly  and  affluently 
for  Pollyooly  in  the  chambers  of  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin.  On  his  suggestion  and  with  his 
aid  she  opened  an  account  with  the  Post-Office 
Savings  Bank  and  enjoyed  the  felicity  of  seeing  the 
balance  to  her  credit  increase  every  week.  For  his 
part,  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  was  no  less  content : 
his  bacon  was  grilled  entirely  to  his  liking;  his 
rooms  were  dustless;  and  he  had  to  hand  an  intelli- 
gent messenger  who  relieved  him  of  many  small, 
but  tiresome,  errands.  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  was 
content :  his  weekly  bills  had  shrunk  to  their  natural 
size;  his  whisky  was  unwatered  save  by  his  own 
firm  hand. 

The  discontented  one  was  Mr.  Montague  Fitz- 
gerald. In  the  course  of  his  predatory  life  in  the 
jungle  of  the  Money-lending  Acts  he  had  grown 

56 


THE  SIEGE  57 

well  used  to  rebuffs ;  but  he  liked  them  none  the  bet- 
ter for  that.  But  that  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
should  have  been  the  one  to  rebuff  him  filled  him 
with  a  resentment  bitter  beyond  all  words. 

It  was  a  shock  to  his  faith  in  human  nature.  He 
had  always  looked  upon  him  as  the  model  client,  a 
striking  type  of  the  great  body  of  the  amiable  whom 
a  kindly  Providence  has  provided  to  be  the  prey  of 
sharks,  the  model  client  who  pays  sixty  per  cent., 
not  without  a  murmur  indeed,  not  even  without 
pressure,  but  pays  it.  It  was  no  wonder  that  he 
was  filled  with  an  extraordinary  bitterness  by  this 
favorite  client's  revolt  against  the  specious,  but  ini- 
quitous, bond  with  which  he  had  tricked  his  inex- 
perience. 

Besides  this  natural  resentment  at  having  been 
mistaken  in  his  client,  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald 
was  wounded  to  the  quick  by  the  thought  that  he 
was  going  to  lose  forty  per  cent,  of  the  sixty  he  had 
been  expecting.  He  could  not  act  on  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin's  suggestion  and  take  the  case  to  the 
High  Court  because  he  would  lose  it  in  a  fashion 
which  would  injure  his  lately  injured  business  yet 
more.  At  one  fell  blow,  and  that  from  the  hand  of 


58  POLLYOOLY 

a  favorite  client,  he  had  lost  his  faith  in  human  na- 
ture and  forty  per  cent. 

Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  forgot  the  stern  busi- 
ness principles  which  had  hitherto  governed  his, 
from  a  business  point  of  view,  exemplary  career, 
and  allowed  himself  to  become  a  mere  human  be- 
ing burning  for  revenge. 

His  vengeance  lay  ready  to  his  hand  in  the  form 
most  congenial  to  his  spirit.  He  had  made  it  his 
business  to  acquire  an  exact  knowledge  of  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin's  position,  a  far  more  exact 
knowledge  of  it  indeed  than  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  had  ever  possessed  himself.  He  knew  to  a 
penny  the  amount  of  the  Oxford  debts  which  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  was  paying  off  by  instal- 
ments; he  bought  them  up  with  the  intention  of 
making  his  life  a  burden  to  him  by  setting  the  law 
at  work  to  make  him  pay  them  forthwith. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  just  before  breakfast  one 
morning,  what  time  Pollyooly,  her  angel  brow  puck- 
ered by  an  anxious  frown,  was  carefully  grilling  his 
bacon,  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  stood  on  his 
hearth-rug,  his  brow  puckered  by  a  yet  more  anx- 
ious frown,  reading  a  letter  from  the  lawyer  who 


THE  SIEGE  59 

did  the  almost  invariably  dirty  work  for  Mr.  Mon- 
tague Fitzgerald,  a  letter  threatening  him  with  the 
unpleasant  processes  of  the  law  unless  he  paid  forth- 
with the  sum  of  seven  hundred  and  fifty-four 
pounds. 

Pollyooly  gave  the  bacon  a  last,  carefully  consid- 
ered turn,  carefully  drained  the  grease  from  each 
slice,  put  them  on  a  carefully  warmed  dish,  and 
carried  it  into  the  sitting-room.  The  face  of  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin,  usually  so  careless  and  se- 
rene, was  set  in  a  gloomy  frown  which  filled  her 
with  surprise  and  a  sympathetic  uneasiness;  but  it 
cleared  somewhat  at  the  sight  of  bacon;  and  he  came 
briskly  to  the  table,  sat  down,  and  began  to  eat  it, 
while  Pollyooly  set  about  her  regular  morning  task 
of  collecting  the  garments  with  which,  in  the  course 
of  selecting  his  apparel  for  the  day,  he  had  bestrewn 
the  room. 

He  ate  two  slices  of  bacon;  then  he  said  in  a 
gloomy  voice,  "The  evil  day  is  upon  us,  Pollyooly." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  tone  of  respectful 
sympathy. 

It  moved  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  to  unbosom 
himself;  and  he  went  on:  "Do  you  remember  a 


60  POLLYOOLY 

rogue  of  the  name  of  Montague  Fitzgerald  who 
came  to  see  me  one  morning?" 

"Yes,  sir.  His  hair  shone  like  his  hat,  and  he  was 
very  angry  when  he  went  away,"  said  Pollyooly 
with  a  gentle  smile  of  pleased  remembrance. 

"He  does  shine,  the  greasy  usurer,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  with  vindictive  conviction.  "But 
I  made  him  rather  too  angry  by  refusing  to  pay  his 
confounded  loan  twice  over.  He  has  bought  up 
all  my  Oxford  debts,  and  is  going  to  writ  me  for  the 
whole  amount.  You  do  not  know  what  Oxford 
debts  are,  being,  fortunately  for  yourself,  of  the 
sheltered,  but  overwhelming,  female  sex;  and  you 
don't  know  what  writting  is,  since  you  are  a  happy 
English,  child.  But  both  are -very  unpleasant  things. 
I  was  paying  those  debts  comfortably,  or  rather  un- 
comfortably, by  instalments.  You  know  what  in- 
stalments are,  Pollyooly  ?" 

"Burial-money,"  said  Pollyooly,  after  a  little 
thoughtful  consideration. 

"Instalments  are  the  curse  of  the  British  Empire; 
and  whole  amounts  are  worse,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  in  a  tone  of  genuine  feeling.  "Well,  I 


THE  SIEGE  61 

can't  pay  the  whole  amount  at  present,  so  we  must 
stave  off  the  evil  day." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"I  must  not  be  writted.  That  is  the  first  evil  day 
to  stave  off.  I  must  have  time.  Time,  Pollyooly,  is 
a  wonderful  thing." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"With  time  I  can  set  about  arranging  to  get  the 
money  to  pay  this  abominable  whole  amount  I 
must,  Pollyooly,  strain  my  credit." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly,  moving  toward  the 
bedroom  with  an  armful  of  assorted  trousers. 

"Have  you  ever  reflected  what  a  weakly  thing 
credit  is — how  easily  it  is  strained?"  said  he. 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly,  pausing. 

"It  is  a  weakling  indeed — alas,  that  it  should  be 
so !"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  very  sadly. 

Pollyooly  said  nothing ;  but  she  gazed  at  him  with 
the  limpid,  sympathetic  eyes  of  a  sorrowing  angel. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  paused,  considering. 
Pollyooly  carried  the  armful  of  trousers  into  the 
bedroom  and  restored  them  to  their  presses. 

When  she  came  back  into  the  sitting-room,  the 


62  POLLYOOLY 

Honorable  John  Ruffin  said,  "Well,  you  see,  Polly- 
ooly,  the  first  thing  to  do  is  to  postpone  the  pain  of 
being  writted.  Till  I  am  writted  the  law  is  power- 
less— paralyzed.  Therefore  I  proclaim  a  state  of 
siege.  Do  you  know  what  a  state  of  siege  is,  Polly- 
ooly?" 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"It  means  that  no  stranger  must  be  let  into  my 
rooms  between  daybreak  and  after  dark,  when  the 
king's  writ  ceases  to  run.  Fortunately  the  king's 
writ  is  not  a  night-bird.  We  shall  have  to  shut 
ourselves  in." 

"Do  you  mean  all  day,  sir?"  said  Pollyooly  knit- 
ting her  brow. 

"I  fear  so,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 
"From  daybreak  till  after  dark." 

"But  how  am  I  to  get  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins' 
breakfast?"  said  Pollyooly  anxiously. 

"That's  a  difficulty,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin,  frowning.  Then  he  said  cheerfully :  "How- 
ever, it's  no  good  meeting  trouble  half-way;  when 
the  time  comes  we  shall  find  a  plan.  You  and  the 
Lump  can  always  steal  out  early  in  the  morning, 
take  up  your  abode  in  the  chambers  of  Mr.  Gedge- 


THE  SIEGE  63 

Tomkins,  and  return  after  the  king's  writ  has 
ceased  its  baneful  activity  for  the  day,  and  stopped 
running.  I  can  get  my  own  breakfast" 

"But  you  can't  cook  your  bacon,  sir,"  said  Polly- 
ooly  in  a  tone  of  dismayed  conviction. 

"I  must  be  content  with  cold  ham,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  sadly.  "I  think  I  could  boil  my 

eggs." 

"I  think  you'd  boil  them  hard,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly 
doubtfully. 

"There's  no  saying.  I  might  get  into  it,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  hopefully. 

Pollyooly  shook  her  head  sadly;  and  her  face 
showed  no  hopefulness  at  all  as  she  carried  the 
other  garments  she  had  carefully  collected  into  his 
bedroom. 

For  the  next  half-hour,  and  for  the  next  few  days, 
when  she  happened  to  think  of  the  danger  which 
threatened  the  quiet  peace  of  their  little  household, 
Pollyooly  wore  a  grave  air.  The  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  on  the  other  hand,  whom  that  danger  chiefly 
concerned,  showed  himself  entirely  serene.  He  was 
even  cheerful.  He  talked  freely  and  frequently  of 
the  slow  approach  of  the  besiegers,  with  the  im- 


64  POLLYOOLY 

personal  interest  of  one  regarding  the  evil  fortune 
of  an  acquaintance. 

On  the  morning  on  which  he  reckoned  that  the 
lawyer  of  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald,  having  re- 
ceived no  answer  to  his  demand  for  the  sum  of 
seven  hundred  and  fifty-four  pounds,  would  set  the 
law  in  motion  by  issuing  a  writ,  he  proclaimed  the 
state  of  siege. 

Then  he  said,  "The  object,  Mrs.  Bride,  of  this 
state  of  siege  in  which  we  are  now  living,  is  to  pre- 
vent the  common  bailiff  from  presenting  me  with  a 
blue  document  purporting  to  come  from  his  Gra- 
cious Majesty  the  King,  but  really  coming  from  a 
most  unpleasant  little  greasy  shark  in  Bloomsbury." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  gravely. 

"Well,  I'm  relying  very  much  on  you  to  prevent  a 
common  bailiff  from  entering  my  presence.  Do 
you  know  what  a  common  bailiff  is  like  ?" 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Well,  a  common  bailiff  is  a  very  respectable  man 
with  a  quite  inconsistently  red  nose.  He  wears 
either  a  black  frock-coat  of  ancient  fashion,  or  a 
morning  coat  of  the  same  shape  as  I  wear  at  the 
Courts.  But  whether  he  wears  a  frock-coat  or  a 


THE  SIEGE  65 

morning  coat,  the  elbows  of  that  coat  are  shiny,  and 
in  places  it  will  be  green." 

He  looked  at  Pollyooly  to  see  whether  she  was 
grasping  these  important  details  and  found  her  re- 
garding him  with  an  air  of  grave  and  concentrated 
attention. 

He  gathered  that  she  was  grasping  them,  and 
went  on,  "His  trousers  are  nearly  sure  to  be  of  the 
hue  which  colorists  describe  as  pepper  and  salt — 
dark  speckled  trousers,  Mrs.  Bride.  His  cravat  will 
be  a  flat,  black  plaster,  slightly  greenish ;  and  he  will 
wear  a  bowler  hat.  Do  you  think  you  will  know 
one  when  you  see  him?" 

"Oh,  yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with  assured  con- 
viction. 

"Well,  then,  you  keep  the  oak  always  shut;  and 
when  any  one  knocks  on  it,  you  go  to  it  gently,  and 
peep  at  them  through  the  slit  of  the  letter-box. 
When  you  see  a  common  bailiff  on  the  landing,  you 
leave  him  there.  If  I'm  at  home  you  tell  me;  and 
if  I'm  not  at  home,  and  he  waits  for  me  on  the 
landing,  you  hang  a  towel  out  of  my  bedroom  win- 
dow, and,  like  Orion,  I  slope  slowly  to  the  West  and 
remain  there  till  the  shades  of  night  have  fallen  fast, 


66  POLLYOOLY 

and  the  king's  writ  has  ceased  its  baneful  activity 
for  the  day.  Do  you  understand  ?" 

"Yes,  sir — quite,"  said  Pollyooly  with  assurance. 

"Well,  it's  a  considerable  burden  to  lay  on  such 
little  shoulders,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
with  a  sigh.  "But  if  my  furniture  were  seized  and 
I  were  hauled  away  to  the  darkest  dungeons  of  Hol- 
loway,  I  don't  know  what  I  could  do  for  you  and 
the  Lump." 

"I  don't  mind,  sir.  I  shall  like  doing  it  very, 
much,"  said  Pollyooly  quickly ;  and  she  smiled  a  rav- 
ishing smile. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  sighed  again:  "I 
can't  fly  with  you  and  the  Lump,  for  I  haven't  the 
money  at  the  moment,"  he  said.  "Besides,  there's  my 
work.  But  I  do  hope  it  will  be  another  lesson  to 
me  not  to  be  swindled  so  easily.  I  doubt  if  I  had  a 
hundred  pounds'  worth  of  goods  for  that  seven  hun- 
dred and  fifty."  Then  he  smiled  and  added  cheer- 
fully, ''But  let  me  not  idly  repine.  I  grow  wiser 
and  wiser." 

After  that  day  as  soon  as  the  bacon  of  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  had  been  grilled,  Pollyooly  and  the 
Lump  betook  themselves  to  the  chambers  of  Mr. 


THE  SIEGE  67 

Gedge-Tomkins  that  she  might  be  free  to  cook  his 
breakfast. 

At  last  the  besiegers,  or  to  be  exact,  the  besieger, 
came  at  half-past  ten  in  the  morning.  Pollyooly 
and  the  Lump  were  in  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins'  cham- 
bers, when  she  heard  a  knocking  at  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin's  door.  She  peeped  through  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins'  letter-box,  and  there,  knocking  steadily 
away,  stood  a  respectable,  but  red-nosed,  man  in  a 
greenish-black  morning  coat,  a  high,  but  dirty  collar, 
a  greenish-black  plaster  of  a  tie,  and  a  dingy,  flat- 
topped  bowler  hat.  After  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin's  admirable  description  of  the  species,  Polly- 
ooly recognized  him  at  a  glance  as  the  common 
bailiff. 

He  was  plainly  unused  to  working  in  the  Temple, 
or  he  would  not  have  gone  on  rapping  so  hopefully 
on  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  oak,  for  when  once 
the  unknockered  oak  is  'sported'  (Anglice,  shut) 
it  means  that  the  occupant  of  the  chambers  is  liter- 
ally, or  figuratively,  out.  The  besieger  could  not 
have  known  this,  for  he  remained  a  quarter  of  an 
hour,  rapping  patiently,  at  three  minute  intervals, 
on  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  oak. 


68  POLLYOOLY 

Then  he  came  and  knocked  at  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins'  door.  Pollyooly  opened  it. 

"Mr.  Ruffin  in?"  he  said,  jerking  a  dirty  thumb 
toward  the  door  opposite. 

Pollyooly  had  not  heard  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  start  for  the  Law  Courts,  and  he  might  not 
have  done  so.  This  ignorance  served  her  well,  for 
she  had  been  brought  up  a  very  truthful  child;  and 
with  exact  accuracy  she  said,  "I  don't  know.  I 
haven't  seen  him  go  in  or  out  since  yesterday  morn- 
ing." 

"What's  he  like  to  look  at?"  said  the  respectable, 
but  red-nosed,  man  gloomily. 

Pollyooly  knitted  her  brow,  as  if  in  an  earnest 
effort  to  remember;  then  she  said,  "Well,  he  looks 
very  nice  in  his  wig." 

"What  colored  eyes  'as  'e  got  ?"  said  the  red-faced 
man. 

"They  might  be  brown,  and  again  they  might 
not,"  said  Pollyooly  after  a  little  thought. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  the  eyes  of  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  are  a  very  fine  gray.  But  Pollyooly 
was  resolved  with  an  equal  firmness  neither  to  im- 
part any  information,  nor  to  depart  from  the  truth. 


THE  SIEGE  69 

"A  fat  lot  you  kids  learn  at  school,"  said  the  red- 
nosed  man  with  some  heat. 

"They  didn't  teach  us  those  sort  of  things,"  said 
Pollyooly  simply. 

"What  time  does  'e  come  'ome?"  said  the  red- 
nosed  man. 

"Late  at  night,  very  late  at  night,"  said  Pollyooly 
truthfully. 

The  respectable,  but  red-nosed,  man  gazed  at  her 
gloomily  for  a  minute,  then  he  turned  on  his  heel 
and  went  slowly  down  the  stairs. 

Pollyooly  ran  to  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins'  sitting- 
room  window  and  watched  him  leave  the  building 
and  the  Inner  Temple.  She  thought  it  well  to  let  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  know  at  once  that  the  tardy 
besieger  had  at  last  come,  and,  taking  the  Lump,  she 
went  across  to  the  Law  Courts,  induced  the  door-* 
keeper  of  Court  No.  IV",  in  which  he  practised,  to 
summon  him  forth,  and  informed  him  of  the  danger. 
He  thanked  her,  and  bade  her  be  ready  to  signal  to 
him  at  a  quarter  past  four,  if  the  red-faced  man  was 
waiting1  to  pounce  on  him.  He  went  back  into  the 
Court,  and  after  finishing  her  work  in  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins'  chambers,  she  took  the  Lump  to  the  gar- 


70  POLLYOOLY 

dens  on  the  Thames  Embankment,  and  let  him  play 
there  for  the  rest  of  the  morning. 

When  she  returned  to  the  Temple  at  half -past 
one,  there,  knocking  patiently  on  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin's  oak,  stood  the  red- faced  man. 

"  'As  'e  come  in  ?"  he  said  gloomily. 

"I  haven't  seen  him  come  in,"  said  Pollyooly  cold- 
ly but  with  literal  accuracy,  and  she  and  the  Lump 
went  into  Mr.  Gedge-Tomldns'  chambers. 

Pollyooly  was  in  a  quandary.  Both'  their  dinner 
and  her  money  were  in  the  chambers  of  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin;  and  the  red-nosed  man  stood 
an  insuperable  and  patiently  knocking  barrier  be- 
tween. 

She  watched  him  through  the  letter-box  of  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  with  growing  impatience.  He 
seemed  to  her  to  be  a  creature  of  the  most  painful 
persistence,  for  he  stood  there,  rapping  at  intervals 
for  nearly  twenty  minutes;  and  the  Lump,  usually 
the  most  placid  of  children,  was  pulling  at  her  frock, 
and  protesting  that  he  was  hungry  in  an  uncommon- 
ly querulous  tone. 

Pollyooly  was  debating  in  her  active  mind 
whether  she  should  sally  forth  with  him  to  the 


THE  SIEGE  71 

Honorable  John  Ruffin's  green-grocer  in  Fetter 
Lane  and  try  to  procure  food  on  credit,  when,  to 
her  great  relief,  the  exasperated  besieger  bestowed 
three  violent  kicks  on  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's 
quite  unoffending  oak,  and  went  heavily  down  the 
stairs.  She  was  quick  in  getting  the  Lump  into 
their  own  quarters  and  to  his  dinner.  She  resolved 
to  have  the  materials  for  that  meal  in  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins'  chambers  for  the  future. 

At  three  o'clock  the  besieger  returned  and 
knocked  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  then  once  more 
he  went  away.  Pollyooly  took  up  her  station  at 
the  window  of  the  sitting-room  and  kept  her  patient 
watch  while  the  Lump  either  played  peacefully  about 
the  floor,  or  sat  in  her  lap,  and,  deaf  to  her  remon- 
strances, sucked  his  thumb.  At  four  o'clock  the 
unwearying  besieger  came  slouching  gloomily  back. 
Pollyooly  ran  for  the  signal  towel  and  hung  it  out 
of  the  window. 

At  a  quarter-past  four  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
appeared  at  the  mouth  of  the  archway  opposite,  ap- 
proaching his  home  warily.  At  the  sight  of  the  sig- 
nal he  paused,  then  came  swiftly  across  the  broad 
space  to  the  pavement  below  the  window. 


72  POLLYOOLY 

"Where  is  he?"  he  said,  hardly  raising-  his  clear, 
carrying  voice. 

"In  the  landing,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Then  please  drop  me  down  my  hat  and  stick, 
my  angel  watcher,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

Pollyooly  made  haste  to  drop  them  out  of  the  win- 
dow. He  caught  them  deftly,  slipped  off  his  wig 
and  gown,  went  to  the  porter's  lodge,  left  them  there 
and  walked  briskly  out  of  the  Tudor  Street  entrance. 
As  he  was  passing  out  of  sight,  he  waved  a  reassur- 
ing hand  to  his  faithful  sentinel. 

At  half -past  four  the  red-nosed  besieger,  who  had 
been  waiting  in  a  sinister  silence,  began  to  knock  on 
the  oak.  At  twenty-five  minutes  to  five  he  was 
knocking  firmly;  at  twenty  minutes  to  five  he  was 
knocking  wildly;  at  a  quarter  to  five  he  seemed  to 
have  lost  his  temper,  for  he  was  interspersing  vio- 
lent, blows  on  the  oak  with  even  more  violent  kicks. 
At  five  minutes  to  five  he  went  away.  Pollyooly 
thought  that  they  had  done  with  him  until  to-mor- 
row. She  wronged  his  indefatigable  soul;  he  was 
back  again  and  hammering  away  at  seven  o'clock 
and  again  at  eight.  He  may  have  returned  later, 
just  before  the  king's  writ  had  ceased  running  its 


THE  SIEGE  73 

baneful  course  for  the  day;  but  Pollyooly  was  sleep- 
ing the  sound  sleep  of  the  young  and  just,  and  she 
did  not  hear  him. 

The  next  morning  the  besieger  arrived  betimes. 
Pollyooly  had  cleaned  both  sets  of  rooms  and  was 
back  cooking  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  breakfast, 
when  she  recognized  his  heavy  footfall  on  the 
stairs. 

She  was  not  dismayed  at  first.  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins  worked  at  his  ibriefs  from  seven  to  nine  and 
then  breakfasted.  It  was  now  only  half -past  eight. 
Pollyooly  had  grasped  the  fact  that  the  patience  of 
the  besieger  became  exhausted  in  less  than  half  an 
hour.  She  had  forgotten,  if  indeed  she  had  ever 
known,  the  stimulating  effect  of  the  sense  of  smell. 
He  knocked;  and  then  he  was  quiet  for  a  while. 
Then  the  trained  olfactory  nerve  of  his  red,  but 
sleuth-hound,  nose  carried  the  smell  of  grilling 
bacon  to  his  astute  brain ;  and  he  leapt  to  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  chambers  were  not  empty.  He  began 
to  knock.  Pollyooly  was  in  hopes  that  he  would 
soon  tire  and  go  away.  She  carried  in  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin's  breakfast ;  and  the  knocking  still 
went  on.  At  a  quarter  to  nine  she  went  to  the  Hon- 


74  POLLYOOLY 

orable  John  Ruffin  with  a  distressed  air,  and  asked 
him  what  she  should  do  about  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins' 
breakfast. 

"Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  is  one  of  those  splendid 
Spartan  fellows  who  will  rejoice  to  go  into  court 
breakfastless,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  with 
calm  cheerfulness. 

"He'll  be  very  angry  with  me,  and  he  does  make 
such  a  noise  when  he's  angry,"  said  Pollyooly  with 
a  somewhat  plaintive  dismay. 

"We  can't  have  that,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  quickly ;  and  he  knitted  his  brow  and  tried  to 
think  out  a  plan. 

He  could  think  of  none.  All  those  that  his  fer- 
tile mind  conceived  were  unfeasible  or  quite  extrav- 
agant. It  was  impossible  in  the  time,  or  with  the 
means  at  his  disposal,  a  small  hammer,  a  corkscrew, 
and  the  poker,  to  make  a  sufficiently  large  opening 
in  the  wall  between  the  two  sets  of  chambers  to 
admit  the  passage  of  Pollyooly. 

Then  Pollyooly  said,  "Please,  sir,  if  I  stood  close 
against  your  oak  and  you  had  the  front  door  nearly 
shut,  when  I  opened  the  oak  you  could  shut  it  quite 
before  he  got  in.  I'm  very  narrow." 


THE  SIEGE  75 

"You  have  not  only  the  face  of  an  angel,  but  the 
brain  of  a  first-class  strategist.  For  a  child  of 
twelve  you  are  a  marvel,  Mrs.  Bride.  But  do  not — 
oh,  do  not  let  it  lead  you  to  suffragism,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  with  warm  admiration ;  and 
he  rose  briskly. 

The  besieger  was  now  taking  a  rest  from  his 
labor  at  the  oak  and,  through  the  slit  of  the  letter- 
box, Pollyooly  saw  him  leaning  against  the  banis- 
ters. She  flattened  herself  against  the  oak,  and  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  nearly  closed  the  inner  door. 

"Ready,"  he  said. 

The  oak  flew  open ;  like  a  jack-in-the-box,  Polly- 
ooly sprang  out  on  to  the  landing,  and  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  shut  the  inner  door  with  a  snap. 

The  besieger  opened  his  mouth  and  started  for- 
ward. "'Ere?  Where?  What?"  he  stuttered. 

Pollyooly  darted  past  him  into  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins'  door,  which  she  had  left  just  unshut  against 
emergency,  and  slammed  it  behind  her. 

The  besieger,  in  a  veritable  fury,  fell  upon  the 
knocker  on  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  inner  door, 
and  plied  it  with  a  will. 

It  made  a  grand  noise;  never  before  in  his  life 


76  POLLYOOLY 

had  he  had  such  a  thoroughly  satisfying  time  with 
a  knocker.  The  landing  and  the  staircase  reverber- 
ated the  filling  sound.  But  it  did  not  open  the  door. 
It  did,  however,  seem  to  interfere  with  the  work 
of  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins.  He  rushed  down  his  pas- 
sage, bounced  on  to  the  landing,  and  suddenly  bel- 
lowed into  the  absorbed  besieger's  happy  ear: 

".What  on  earth  are  you  doing?  What  are  you 
making  this  infernal  row  for?" 

The  besieger  sprang  lightly  into  the  air.  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  was  a  fine,  upstanding,  broad- 
chested  man;  and  his  bellow  was  of  about  the  same 
sound  and  volume  as  the  trumpeting  of  a  well- 
grown  bull  elephant.  As  the  besieger  landed  on  his 
feet,  he  howled  with  some  spirit :  "What's  it  got  to 
do  with  you  ?  I  am  doing  my  dooty." 

Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  presented  to  him  a  fist  of  the 
size  of  a  small  leg  of  lamb;  held  it  firmly  a  few  in- 
ches from  his  eyes  that  he  might  thoroughly  in- 
spect it ;  then  he  bellowed :  "Do  you  see  what  this  is? 
Be  off,  or  I'll  do  a  little  knocking  on  my  own  ac- 
count !" 

The  besieger  gazed  earnestly  for  ten  seconds  at 


"  Hi'm  servin'  a  writ  on  this  'ere  Mr.  Ruffin " 


THE  SIEGE  77 

that  able  fist,  and  retired,  or,  to  be  exact,  skipped 
half-way  down  the  first  flight  of  stairs. 

There  he  stopped,  and  glaring  up  at  the  majestic 
presence  above  him,  cried,  "Hi'm  a  hofficer  of  the 
lor.  Hi'm  servin'  a  writ  on  this  'ere  Mr.  Ruffin." 
And  he  brandished  a  blue  document  at  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins. 

"Serve  it !  But  you  be  as  quiet  as  a  mouse  about  it 
or  Til  push  it  down  your  throat!"  bellowed  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins ;  and  he  went  back  into  his  chambers 
with  a  fine,  majestic  air,  and  slammed  the  door. 

The  besieger  wiped  his  brow  with  a  dirty  blue 
pocket-handkerchief,  then  stole  gingerly  up  the 
stairs,  and  leaning  against  the  banisters,  resumed 
his  watch,  panting  softly.  His  morning  nerves,  of 
the  kind  which  so  frequently  accompany  a  red  nose, 
were  all  to  pieces.  He  was  shaken  to  the  depths 
of  his  being. 

Pollyooly  cooked  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins'  breakfast 
with  uncommon  care — she  had  suddenly  begun  to 
respect  him. 

Hitherto  she  had  rather  despised  him.  His  re- 
fusal, on  hearing  of  the  death  of  her  Aunt  Hannah, 


78  POLLYOOLY 

to  let  her  retain  the  post  of  housekeeper,  the  duties 
of  which  she  had  discharged  with  so  thorough  an 
efficiency,  on  the  ground  that  she  had  deceived  him, 
had  not  only  ruffled  her  sensibilities  but  also  given 
her  a  very  poor  opinion  of  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins'  in- 
telligence. The  alternative  to  herself  he  had  chosen, 
was  to  any  intelligent  eye  utterly  unworthy  to  be 
the  housekeeper  of  even  a  tramp. 

Accordingly  she  had  regarded  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins as  merely  a  taciturn,  earnest,  hard-working  bar- 
rister, wholly  unworthy  any  genuine  admiration  or 
esteem,  not  at  all  the  kind  of  man  to  whom  one 
could  attach  oneself.  His  sudden,  terrific  explosion 
in  the  part  of  a  man  of  violence  raised  him  immeas- 
urably in  her  estimation.  For  the  first  time  he  took 
her  girlish  fancy;  and  she  grilled  his  bacon  with 
some  of  the  loving  care  she  was  used  to  devote  to 
that  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  ate  that  bacon  more  slowly 
and  thoughtfully  than  usual.  At  the  end  of  it, 
when  she  brought  him  his  eggs,  he  said  with  a  judi- 
cial air  and  in  a  judicial  tone : 

"I  think  that  in — er — er  more  favorable  circum- 


THE  SIEGE  79 

stances  you  might  be  trained  to  be  a  cook  of  some 
merit." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

She  was  pleased  by  the  compliment,  and  went  on 
with  her  work  in  a  complacent  frame  of  mind.  But 
her  troubles  were  by  no  means  over;  for  his  little 
altercation  with  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  seemed  to 
have  braced  all  the  dogged  Englishman  in  the  red- 
nosed  besieger  to  the  highest  pitch ;  and  he  had  ap- 
parently made  up  his  mind  to  stay  the  day. 

At  half-past  eleven  he  still  leaned  against  the  ban- 
isters, and  Pollyooly  began  to  grow  anxious  about 
the  Lump.  She  was  sure  that  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  would  look  after  him — not  that  he  needed 
much  looking  after.  But  his  dinner-hour  was  ap- 
proaching; he  would  not  fail  to  make  firmly  known 
that  it  was  his  dinner-hour ;  and  her  instinct  warned 
her  that  her  kind-hearted  employer  would  give  him 
indigestible  things  to  eat,  and  then  have  him  ill  on 
his  hands  all  the  afternoon.  She  cudgeled  and  cud- 
geled her  brains  for  some  method  of  getting  back 
into  her  own  quarters  without  letting  in  the  besieger 
on  her  heels ;  but  she  could  find  none. 


8o  POLLYOOLY 

Even  her  natural  serenity  could  not  stand  the 
strain  of  her  dire  imaginings;  and  by  a  quarter  to 
one  she  had  worked  herself  into  a  fever  of 
anxiety.  Then  a  happy  idea  came  to  her.  She  ran 
up  to  the  attic  above  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins'  sitting- 
room,  opened  the  window  and  looked  out. 

The  window  of  her  own  attic  was  fifteen  feet 
away,  and  open.  The  slope  of  the  roof  was  not 
very  steep;  also,  if  she  did  slip,  there  was  a  broad 
gutter;  and  she  thought  it  looked  strong.  She  took 
off  her  shoes,  slipped  out  of  the  window,  and  tested 
the  grip  of  her  feet  on  the  tiles.  Her  feet  gripped 
them  firmly;  for  the  course  of  time  had  worn  away 
their  original  seventeenth-century  smoothness,  and 
many  little  tufts  of  lichen  helped  to  hold  the  sole. 
She  began  to>  crawl,  firmly,  in  a  course  slanting 
slightly  upward,  to  a  point  above  her  own  window. 

Of  course,  a  policeman  on  the  farther  pavement 
of  the  King's  Bench  Walk,  having  nothing  else  to 
do,  espied  her  in  her  perilous  transit,  and  with  all 
the  intelligence  of  his  force  and  race,  shouted  at 
her.  Pollyooly  had  perfect  nerves ;  but  it  was  just 
as  well  at  the  moment  that  she  did  not  hear  him, 
though,  indeed,  she  was  not  thinking  at  all  of  the 


THE  SIEGE  81 

danger,  but  only  of  getting  as  quickly  as  possible 
to  the  Lump,  who  might  even  now  be  devouring  in- 
digestible things. 

The  policeman's  shouts  quickly  gathered  together 
a  little  crowd;  and  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  at 
his  window  could  not  for  the  life  of  him  understand 
at  what  they  were  pointing  in  such  excitement,  or 
why  some  of  them  danced  up  and  down  in  such  a 
curious  and  apparently  aimless  fashion. 

Pollyooly  arrived  presently  at  a  point  four  feet 
above  the  dormer  window  of  her  attic,  and  slid 
quickly  down  on  to  its  little  roof.  She  sat  astride 
it  for  a  moment,  and  took  a:  brief  and  calm  survey 
of  the  Temple.  She  observed  the  anxious  crowd  of 
watchers,  still  excited  and  gesticulating,  and  waved 
her  hand  to  it.  Then  she  slipped  over  the  edge  of 
the  roof,  on  to  the  window  ledge,  and  into  the 
window. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  was  still  wondering 
at  the  little  burst  of  cheers  from  the  crowd  which 
greeted  the  safe  conclusion  of  her  perilous  transit, 
when  Pollyooly  entered  his  sitting-room,  to  find  the 
Lump  with  a  large  slice  of  the  uncommonly  rich 
and  indigestible  cake,  with  which  the  Honorable 


82  POLLYOOLY 

John  Ruffin  was  wont  to  regale  his  friends  at  after- 
noon tea,  half  eaten  in  his  hand. 

"Where  on  earth  have  you  come  from?"  cried 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  extreme  astonishment. 

"I  crawled  along  the  roof,  and  in  through  the 
window  of  our  bedroom,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly,  firmly 
removing  the  slice  of  cake  from  the  reluctant  hand 
of  the  Lump. 

"But  it's  a  sloping  roof!"  cried  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  yet  more  loudly. 

"Yes,  sir.  It  does  slope,"  said  Pollyooly,  looking 
surprised  at  his  vehemence. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  said  no  more  at  the 
moment.  He  ran  out  of  the  room,  rushed  up  the 
stairs  to  the  attic,  and  looked  out  of  the  window. 

He  came  down,  his  face  somewhat  pale  and  said 
in  a  scared  tone,  "Never,  on  any  account,  crawl 
along  that  roof  again.  I  forbid  it  absolutely.  I'd 
rather  be  writted  ten  times  over  than  that  you  should 
do  such  a  dangerous  thing." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  meekly,  but  she  looked 
a  little  puzzled  by  his  vehemence. 

"What  on  earth  did  you  do  it  for  ?"  he  said  in  an 
easier  tone. 


THE  SIEGE  83 

"I  thought  that  the  Lump  would  bother  you,  sir, 
and  you  wouldn't  know  what  to  give  him  for  din- 
ner," said  Pollyooly. 

"You  thought  the  Lump  would  bother  me  and  I 
shouldn't  know  what  to  give  him  for  dinner!  So 
you  crawl  along  a  sloping  roof,  sixty  feet  from  the 
ground  to  get  to  us !"  cried  the  Honorable  John  Ruf- 
fin  in  a  tone  of  stupefaction. 

"He  might  have  had  indigestion,"  said  Pollyooly. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  raised  both  hands  to- 
ward the  ceiling,  and  cried  loudly,  "I  tell  you,  Polly- 
ooly, that  the  female  sex  is  one  of  the  most  remark- 
able phenomena  that  crawl  about  the  earth !" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  amiable  assent 

She  did  not  resent  the  doubtful  tribute  to  her  sex; 
she  did  not  understand  it.  That  did  not  matter; 
often  she  did  not  understand  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin.  None  the  less  she  did  not  doubt  that  he  was 
right.  She  took  the  eager  Lump  up  to  their  attic  to 
give  him  his  dinner. 

She  had  barely  reached  their  attic  when  there 
came  the  tramp  of  many  feet  on  the  staircase.  The 
policeman,  in  a  rapture  at  having  something  to  do, 
was  coming  to  express  his  disapproval  of  Pollyooly 's 


84  POLLYOOLY 

startling  activity ;  and  some  of  the  crowd  came  with 
him.  He  knocked;  and  the  door  was  not  opened  to 
him.  He  had  a  short  talk  with  the  red-nosed  be- 
sieger; then,  apprised  of  the  delicacy  of  the  situa- 
tion, he  went  away. 

The  red-nosed  man  did  not.  An  hour  after  lunch 
the  Honorable  John  Rtiffin  grew  tired  of  his  own 
society,  fetched  Pollyooly  and  the  Lump  from  their 
attic,  and  told  them  stories.  He  drew  a  keen  pleas- 
ure from  changing  the  grave  and  serious  expression, 
which  for  the  most  part  rested  on  Pollyooly's  angel 
face,  to  a  natural,  careless,  childlike  gleefulness. 

At  six  o'clock  the  red-nosed  watcher  on  the 
threshold  could  no  longer  withstand  the  demands  of 
his  so  long  unslaked  gullet,  unslaked,  that  is,  by  any- 
thing more  alluring  that  the  water  that  flowed  from 
the  tap  on  the  ground  floor.  With  that  thin  bever- 
age he  had  washed  down  the  lunch  of  bread  and 
cheese  he  had  brought  so  snug  and  warm  in  the  tail 
pocket  of  his  morning  coat.  He  heard  the  summon- 
ing, clear  call  of  the  beer ;  and  he  went. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  escaped  swiftly  but 
discreetly.  Pollyooly  scouted  ahead  of  him,  as  far 


THE  SIEGE  85 

as  Middle  Temple  lane.  It  was  empty ;  and  he  hur- 
ried down  it  to  breathe  with  relief  the  free  air  of 
the  Thames  Embankment.  He  did  not  return  till  the 
king's  writ  had  gone  to  its  well-earned  rest. 

At  eight  o'clock  the  next  morning  the  red-nosed 
besieger  was  at  his  post,  teeming  with  dogged  reso- 
lution. But  Pollyooly  was  careless  of  him;  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  now  understood  the  diet  of 
the  Lump :  she  had  explained  it  to  him  fully  and  at 
length.  As  soon  as  she  had  cooked  his  bacon,  she 
made  her  jack-in-the-box  exit  from  his  chambers 
into  those  of  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins ;  and  the  red- 
nosed  watcher  observed  her  passage  in  silence,  but 
with  a  very  gloomy  eye. 

When  she  carried  in  his  breakfast,  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins  broke  from  his  usual  taciturnity,  and  asked 
her  how  the  siege  was  progressing.  Since  his  manly 
explosion  of  the  morning  before  had  disposed  her  to 
regard  him  with  the  kindliest  favor,  Pollyooly  was 
affably  open  with  him.  She  told  him  of  the  red- 
nosed  besieger's  dogged  pertinacity,  and  how  she 
had  had  to  crawl  along  the  roof  from  his  attic  to 
her  own  to  get  back  to  the  Lump. 


86  POLLYOOLY 

"You're  not  going  to  do  that  again  to-day?"  said 
Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  sharply. 

"No,  sir.  Mr.  Ruffin  is  going  to  look  after  the 
Lum' — Roger,  sir,  and  give  him  the  right  things  to 
eat." 

"The  offshoots  of  the  aristocracy  are  the  curse  of 
the  professions,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  with 
stern  precision.  "Why  doesn't  he  pay  his  debts  in- 
stead of  looking  after  young  children,  an  avocation 
for  which  he  is  entirely  unqualified  ?" 

"The  Lump  doesn't  want  much  looking  after, 
sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  tone  of  apology. 

"I  do  not  like  that  red-nosed  fellow.  I  believe  he 
drinks,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  thoughtfully,  with 
a  gloomy  frown. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"When  you're  ready  to  go  back  to  Mr.  Ruffin's 
chambers,  let  me  know.  I  will  manage  it  for  you," 
said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  in  a  tone  of  gloomy  men- 
ace which  boded  ill  to  the  dogged  Englishman. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  joyfully. 

At  ten  o'clock  she  had  finished  her  work  in  his 
rooms,  and  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  had  finished  his 
morning  pipe,  and  was  ready  for  the  Courts, 


THE  SIEGE  87 

He  went  to  the  window  and  shouted,  "Ruffin! 
Ruffin!" 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  put  his  head  out  of 
his  window. 

"If  you'll  stand  at  your  door  and  be  ready  to  let 
Mary  Bride  in,  I  think  I  can  clear  the  dipsomaniac 
fellow  off  the  landing,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins. 

"Thank  you — thank  you  very  much,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  put  on  his  wig  and  gown, 
and,  followed  by  Pollyooly,  went  to  his  front  door, 
flung  it  violently  open,  bounded  heavily  out  on  to  the 
landing,  and  bellowed  at  the  besieger:  "Why  are 
you  loafing  about  on  my  half  of  the  landing?  I 
won't  have  it !  Do  you  hear,  you  bottle-nosed  ruf- 
fian !  I  won't  have  it !" 

The  morning  nerves  of  the  red- faced  man  jumped 
all  ways  at  the  shock,  he  bolted  half-way  down  the 
flight  of  stairs,  then  turned  to  expostulate. 

"You're  on  my  half  of  the  staircase  now!  Get  off 
it!"  bellowed  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins;  and  Pollyooly 
passed  quickly  behind  him  into  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin's  chambers. 

The  red-nosed,  but  dogged,  Englishman  uttered 


88  POLLYOOLY 

a  short  howl  of  grief  at  the  sight;  then  he  said: 
"Which  is  your  'alf,  guv'nor?" 

Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  came  down  the  staircase,  his 
majestic  presence  nearly  rilling  it.  "What's  that  to 
you,  my  man?"  he  bellowed.  "Do  you  think  I'm 
going  to  spend  my  day  answering  the  questions  of 
every  idle  loafer  in  London?" 

The  red-nosed  man  shuffled  down  the  stairs  be- 
fore the  majestic  advance.  There  was  nothing  else' 
to  do.  In  a  tweed  suit  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  filled 
most  of  the  wide  staircase;  in  his  gown  he  filled  all 
of  it.  The  besieger  did  not  go  up  the  stairs  till  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins'  majestic  form  had  disappeared 
through  the  archway  on  the  farther  side  of  the 
King's  Bench  Walk.  He  was  too  busy  shaking  his 
fist  at  that  spreading  back  and  relieving  his  overbur- 
dened heart  of  the  sentiments  which  oppressed  it. 

He  returned  to  his  post  more  dogged  than  ever; 
and  thanks  to  the  kindly  offices  of  the  vengeful  Mrs. 
Meeken,  who  for  a  small,  gin-procuring  considera- 
tion, brought  him  beer  in  a  jug,  he  was  able  to  pro- 
long his  watch  to  the  very  hour  at  which  the  king's 
writ  ceased  to  run. 

But  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  and  his  household, 


THE  SIEGE  89 

entertaining  one  another  in  simple  pastimes,  were 
heedless  of  him.  Both  Pollyooly  and  the  Lump 
came  to  consider  a  state  of  siege  the  most  fortunate 
condition  of  life. 

The  next  morning  there  was  no  red-nosed  man. 
He  had  not  appeared  at  ten  o'clock.  But  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  was  not  to  be  lured  carelessly 
into  the  open. 

"Will  you  go  on  a  scouting  expedition,  Polly- 
ooly?" he  said. 

Pollyooly  opened  her  beautiful  blue  eyes  in  a  mute 
question. 

"Will  you  go  and  hunt  the  Temple  carefully,  and 
a  little  of  Fleet  Street,  and  see  that  the  besieger  is 
not  lurking  about?  I'll  mind  the  Lump — a  girl 
scout  should  travel  unhampered." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  eagerly;  and  she  went 
quickly  forth. 

Now  the  absence  of  the  red-nosed  watcher  on 
the  threshold  was  brought  about  by  the  fact  that  the 
night  before  he  had  found  awaiting  him  in  his  little 
Poplar  home  an  imperative  summons  to  visit  Mr. 
Montague  Fitzgerald  at  his  private  flat  in  Mount 
Street  at  nine  o'clock  that  morning.  He  had  made 


90  POLLYOOLY 

haste  to  obey  the  summons  because  Mr.  Montague 
Fitzgerald  added  much,  by  his  tips,  to  the  salary 
which  he  received  for  plaguing  his  fellow  creatures 
by  the  faithful  discharge  of  the  function  of  bailiff. 

He  found  the  money-lender  grossly  breakfasting 
on  liver  and  bacon  horribly  fried  in  the  same  pan; 
and  the  money-lender  greeted  him  with  a  black 
scowl,  for  he  could  not  brook  the  law's  delay  when 
he  was  on  the  right  side  of  it. 

"Why  hasn't  the  writ  been  served  on  that  fellow 
Ruffin,  Goole?"  he  said  sharply.  "Are  you  going 
to  take  a  month  or  two  about  it?  I  got  you  ap- 
pointed to  the  job,  though  it's  off  your  usual  beat, 
because  I  thought  I  could  rely  on  you  to  be  smart 
about  it." 

"There's  no  gettin'  at  'im  to  serve  it,"  said  the 
dogged  one  doggedly. 

"No  getting  at  him  ?  Nonsense !  A  careless  young 
ass  like  that!"  cried  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  con- 
temptuously. 

The  long  pent-up  emotion  of  the  faithful  Goole 
burst  forth  in  an  eloquently  passionate,  but  husky, 
denunciation  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  Polly- 
ooly,  and  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins.  In  hoarse  but 


THE  SIEGE  91 

rasping  tones  he  related  how  they  had  so  far  foiled 
him. 

Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  heard  him  to  the  end 
with  close  attention;  then,  frowning  darkly,  he  said 
in  a  sinister  tone,  "The  thing  for  you  to  do,  Goole, 
is  to  pounce — pounce." 

"But  'o\v,  guv'nor?"  said  the  sorrowful  Goole. 

"I'll  show  you.  I'll  put  you  on  to  him,"  said  Mr. 
Montague  Fitzgerald  with  heartening  confidence. 
"Your  not  going  to  the  Temple  this  morning  will 
put  him  off  his  guard.  We  shall  catch  him  at  once. 
It's  a  dead  snip." 

"Right,  O  guv'nor,"  said  the  bailiff  hopefully. 

Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  handed  him  over  to  his 
man,  with  instructions  that  he  was  to  have  beer,  and 
once  more  addressed  himself  grossly  to  his  liver  and 
bacon.  After  his  breakfast  he  smoked  much  of  a 
large,  thick,  black  cigar;  and  then,  his  heart  aglow 
at  the  prospect  of  not  only  himself  worsting  the  man 
who  had  not  paid  him  sixty  per  cent.,  but  also  of 
witnessing  his  discomfiture,  he  drove  to  the  Law 
Courts  with  Goole.  He  had  reckoned  without  Polly- 
ooly. 

Pollyooly  came  forth  from  the  chambers  of  the 


92  POLLYOOLY 

Honorable  John  Ruffin  fully  alive  to  the  seriousness 
of  the  mission  with  which  she  was  charged.  None 
the  less,  after  a  while  she  could  not  help  feeling  that 
it  was  one  of  the  most  interesting  and  amusing 
games  of  hide-and-seek  she  had  ever  played.  She 
peeped  round  corners  before  turning  them;  she  ran 
swiftly  through  archways  and  out  of  passages  in 
hope  to  surprise  the  enemy  slinking  out  of  sight. 
She  found  no  red-nosed  man,  or,  to  be  exact,  no 
red-nosed  man  she  sought,  in  the  Temple ;  and  Fleet 
Street  was  also  free  from  him.  She  slipped  across 
the  road  and  peered  into  the  great  hall  of  the  Law 
Courts.  There  stood  the  red-nosed  besieger;  and 
beside  him  shone  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald.  They 
were  on  the  lookout  for  a  tall  figure  in  wig  and 
gown,  not  for  a  slip  of  a  child  in  a  blue  frock ;  and 
their  eager,  expectant  eyes  missed  her.  She  ran 
quickly  back  to  the  Temple  with  her  information. 
The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  sang  a  cheerful  little 
song  as  he  put  on  a  morning  coat  and  a  silk  hat; 
then  he  said:  "I'm  going,  Pollyooly,  in  search  of 
an  uncle — a  rich  uncle-  I  must  have  a  rich  uncle 
somewhere ;  and  I  will  find  him ;  for  I  feel  that  this 


THE  SIEGE  93 

siege  is  wearing  you  out,  that  you  are  on  the  way 
to  a  nervous  breakdown." 

"Oh,  I  don't  mind  it  at  all,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly 
cheerfully.  "I  like  it." 

"So  much  excitement  is  bad  for  one  so  young," 
he  said  sententiously ;  and  he  departed  gaily  by  the 
Tudor  Street  entrance. 

Pollyooly  put  their  dinner  into  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins'  kitchen,  and  took  the  Lump  to  the  Embank- 
ment Gardens  for  fresh  air  and  exercise.  It  was 
well  that  she  had  taken  precautions ;  for  on  her  re- 
turn she  found  the  red-nosed  man  at  his  post.  With 
an  air  of  contemptuous  dignity,  Pollyooly  led  the 
Lump  past  him  into  Mr.  Geclge-Tomkins'  chambers. 

The  red-nosed  besieger  gazed  at  the  closed  door 
with  a  bitter  scowl.  He  had  waited  for  an  hour 
in  the  Law  Courts  with  a  money-lender  who  as  he 
waxed  more  and  more  impatient  at  the  waste  of  a 
morning  he  would  fain  have  spent  fleecing  the  high- 
spirited  youth  of  his  adopted  country,  had  waxed 
more  and  more  bitter  in  his  criticism  of  the  incom- 
petence of  the  salaried  instruments  of  the  Law. 

Before  he  lost  hope  that  the  Honorable  John 


94  POLLYOOLY 

Riiffin  would  fall  into  his  hands,  and  departed  to 
his  congenial  employment,  he  bade  the  exacerbated 
bailiff  wait  on  him  at  his  office  at  five  o'clock  that 
afternoon.  He  was  of  the  opinion  that  by  that  hour 
his  ingenious  mind  would  have  found  the  solution 
of  this  writ-serving  problem. 

At  five  o'clock,  therefore,  the  bailiff  presented 
himself  to  the  money-lender;  and  the  money-lender 
beamed  on  him  with  a  proud  smile. 

"I've  got  it,"  he  said  with  enthusiastic  confidence. 
"It  ain't  often  that  the  intelleck  of  Monty  fails  to  do 
the  trick  when  once  it  gets  working.  That  little  red- 
haired  brat  is  our  game.  She  has  the  key  of  Ruf- 
fin's  door  in  her  pocket.  We  take  it  from  her — I'll 
lend1  you  a  'elping  'and — you  open  his  door  and 
serve  the  writ ;  and  there  you  are !" 

"There  may  be  trouble,  guv'nor,"  said  the  red- 
nosed  one  doubtfully. 

"Trouble  ?  Trouble  ?"  said  the  money-lender  with 
a  bright  cheerfulness,  slapping  his  pocket  so  that  the 
money  in  it  clinked.  "There's  no  trouble — no  seri- 
ous trouble  where  those  are,  my  boy." 

The  event  proved  him  right.  But  then  there  is 
trouble  and  trouble. 


THE  SIEGE  95 

The  next  morning  when  Pollyooly  was  ready  to 
go  to  the  chambers  of  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  she  took 
a  peep  through  the  letter-box  and  saw  that  the  red- 
nosed  besieger  had  returned  to  his  watch  and  was 
leaning  against  the  banisters.  She  was  not  dismayed. 
It  was  all  one  to  her  blithe  spirit  whether  she  left 
the  chambers  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  the 
manner  of  a  jack-in-the-box  or  sedately.  But  she 
did  not  see  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald,  who  was  shin- 
ing against  the  wall  a  few  steps  down  the  staircase. 

She  flattened  herself  against  the  oak ;  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  made  ready  to  snap  to  the  inner 
door;  she  drew  back  the  latch  and  sprang  out  with 
the  opening  oak.  Then  the  red-nosed  besieger 
stepped  in  front  of  her;  and  Mr.  Montague  Fitz- 
gerald bounded  up  the  stairs  and  caught  her  by  the 
arm. 

"The  key!  Give  me  Mr.  Ruffin's  key!"  he  cried 
in  a  tone  of  exultant  triumph. 

It  was  instinct  which  caused  Pollyooly  to  kick 
him  violently  on  the  shins ;  but  it  was  reason  which 
caused  her  to  grasp  the  gravity  of  the  situation  and 
scream  with  all  the  force  of  her  young  and  healthy 
lungs. 


96  POLLYOOLY 

She  was  half-way  through  the  second  scream 
when  the  cloor  of  both  sets  of  chambers  opened. 
The  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  emerging  lightly,  hit 
Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  on  the  left  side  of  the 
head  with  a  force  which  would  have  driven  him  and 
Pollyooly  right  across  the  landing  had  not  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  chanced  at  about  the  same  instant 
to  hit  him  on  the  right  side  of  the  head  with  a 
force  that  restored  their  equilibrium. 

With  a  quiet,  but  thoroughly  satisfied  grunt,  Mr. 
Montague  Fitzgerald  sat  heavily  down  on  the  floor. 
The  morning  nerves  of  the  red-nosed  besieger  again 
went  jagged;  and  with  a  howl  he  bolted  down  the 
stairs  as  Pollyooly  bolted  through  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins' door. 

"She's  all  right!  Get  back,  Ruffin,  or  you'll  be 
writted !"  cried  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  got  back,  and 
slammed  his  oak. 

Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  bent  down  over  the  some- 
what dazed  money-lender,  enveloped  the  scruff  of 
his  neck  in  his  voluminous  grip,  jerked  him  pain- 
fully to  his  feet,  marched  him  down  the  stairs,  and 
handed  him  over  to  the  policeman  at  the  Tudor 


THE  SIEGE  97 

Street  gate  of  the  Temple.  From  there  he  accom- 
panied them  to  the  Police  Station,  and  on  behalf  of 
Pollyooly  preferred  against  him  a  charge  of  assault 
and  battery.  He  left  him  there,  still  too  dazed  to 
make  any  defense,  and  returned  to  the  Temple  in 
majestic  triumph. 

The  red-nosed  besieger  was  not  at  his  post;  in- 
deed he  was  still  busy  applying  the  balm  of  beer  to 
his  jagged  nerves;  and  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  went 
into  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  sitting-room. 
They  held  a  conference  of  some  length,  and  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  was  apprised  of  the  exact  situation. 
They  decided  to  press  to  the  utmost  the  charge  of 
assault  against  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald. 

There  was,  however,  no  occasion  to  press  it.  That 
afternoon  on  his  return  from  the  Law  Courts  an  ex- 
tremely unpleasant  looking  person  called  on  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  and  declared  himself  to  be  Mr. 
Montague  Fitzgerald's  solicitor  equipped  with  the 
powers  of  a  plenipotentiary. 

He  was  a  smoothly  spoken  man,  but  quite  frank 
and  open.  Indeed,  he  told  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  that 
he  would  be  quite  frank  with  him.  A  prosecution 
for  assaulting  a  child  would  be  very  painful  to  his 


98  POLLYOOLY 

high-spirited  client,  who  abhorred  above  all  things 
a  reputation  for  harshness.  Therefore  he  was  pre- 
pared to  withdraw  the  writ  for  the  whole  amount 
of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  Oxford  debts,  and 
let  him  continue  to  pay  them  by  instalments.  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  was  no  less  frank ;  he  was  even  bru- 
tal. He  showed  an  entire  lack  of  consideration  for 
the  fine  feelings  of  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald,  whom 
he  called  "that  blackguardly  shark,"  and  in  the  end 
protracted  the  time  of  payment  of  the  Oxford  debts 
one-third,  by  the  simple  device  of  lessening  each  in- 
stalment by  one-third. 

That  settled,  he  called  in  the  Honorable  John  Ruf- 
fin  and  Polly ooly,  and  informed  him  of  the  arrange- 
ment lie  had  made.  The  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
thanked  him  warmly  for  having  handled  his  affairs 
in  such  a  thoroughly  satisfactory  manner. 

Then  he  turned  to  the  lawyer  and  said : 

"Fitzgerald's  proposal  is  all  very  well  for  me;  but 
where  does  Mary  Bride  here1  come  in?  It  was  she 
who  was  assaulted  and  battered." 

"Mr.  Fitzgerald  commissioned  me  to  offer  her 
two  pounds  as  a  solatium,"  said  the  lawyer. 


THE  SIEGE  99 

"Make  it  twenty,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruf- 
fin  quietly. 

"Twenty!  But  she  was  not  really  hurt!"  cried 
the  lawyer  in  a  tone  of  horror. 

"There  is  such  a  thing  as  nervous  shock,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  coldly. 

"I  must  say  she  doesn't  look  to  me  to  be  suffering 
from  nervous  shock,"  said  the  lawyer,  peering  at 
Pollyooly,  with  his  little  ferret  eyes. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  don't  see  how  pale 
she  is?"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  with  some 
heat. 

Apparently  he  had  for  the  moment  forgotten  that 
there  was  never  much  color  in  Pollyooly's  clear,  pale 
cheeks,  save  on  those  rare  occasions  when  she 
blushed. 

"Very  well;  we'll  make  it  twenty,"  said  the  law- 
yer in  a  tone  of  the  bitterest  pain. 

Pollyooly  smiled  like  a  contented  angel. 


CHAPTER   III 

POLLYOOLY  VINDICATES  HER  PERSONAL  HUMAN 
DIGNITY 

A"  he  devoured  his  bacon  next  morning  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  gazed  at  the  angel  face  of 
Polly ooly  with  a  warmer  approval  than  ever. 

Presently  he  said,  "By  the  way,  Mrs.  Bride,  in  the 
stress  and  turmoil  of  our  negotiations  I  forgot  to 
congratulate  you  on  the  readiness  and  resource  you 
displayed  yesterday  morning." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  polite  but  somewhat 
doubtful  assent,  for  she  did  not  know  with  any  ex- 
actitude what  either  readiness  or  resource  was. 

"Yes,  you  screamed,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin.  "You  screamed  splendidly." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  somewhat  per- 
plexed tone,  for  she  had  never  associated  a  scream 
with  any  kind  of  splendor. 

"Ah,  I  see  that  you  don't  appreciate  the  admira- 
100 


VINDICATES    HER   DIGNITY        101 

Lie  nature  of  your  own  action.  It  must  have  been 
instinctive,"  he  said  gravely;  then  he  added  in  his 
most  impressive  tone:  "But  remember,  Pollyooly, 
that  a  woman's  chief  armor  is  her  scream — never 
forget  that." 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly,  properly  impressed. 

"A  woman's  chief  weapon  of  offense  is  her  tears 
— and  deucedly  offensive  they  are.  Her  chief  ar- 
mor is  her  scream.  Bear  that  in  mind  always;  and 
the  world  will  hold  no  terrors  for  you,"  he  said 
again  impressively. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  returned  to  his  bacon 
with  the  profound  air  of  satisfaction  of  a  sage  who 
has  just  conferred  upon  the  world  a  boon  of  price- 
less wisdom. 

Pollyooly  carried  an  armful  of  scattered  garments 
into  his  bedroom,  pondering  his  words  of  wisdom 
with  extreme  gravity. 

The  next  morning  there  came  to  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins  her  check  for  twenty  pounds  from  Mr. 
Montague  Fitzgerald. 

When  she  brought  in  his  breakfast  he  took  the 
check  out  of  its  envelope  and  regarded  her  som- 


102  POLLYOOLY 

berly;  then  he  said  in  gloomy  tones,  "Here's  your 
check  for  twenty  pounds  from  that  money-lending 
rascal.  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?" 

Pollyooly  looked  at  the  slip  of  paper  in  some  be- 
wilderment, for  it  was  probably  the  first  time  in  her 
life  she  had  ever  given  any  attention  to  a  check,  if, 
indeed,  she  had  ever  seen  one  before. 

"Is  it — is  it  twenty  pounds,  sir?"  she  said. 

"Yes;  it's  an  open  check,  and  if  you  take  it  to  the 
City  of  London  Bank  they  will  give  you  twenty, 
pounds  for  it.  It's  a  great  deal  of  money  for  a  child 
like  you  to  have ;  and  if  you'd  been  properly  brought 
up  you'd  have  an  account  with  the  Post-Office  Sav- 
ings Bank,  and  put  it  into  it,"  he  said  gloomily. 

"I  was  properly  brought  up!"  cried  Pollyooly 
with  some  heat.  "Mrs.  Brown  always  says  that 
Aunt  Hannah  brought  me  up  ever  so  properly.  And 
I  have  a  Post-Office  Savings  Bank  book." 

"Oh,  you  have,  have  you  ?"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins  in  a  tone  of  considerable  surprise,  for  he  still 
cherished  his  unfavorable  opinion  of  Pollyooly's 
character. 

"And  there's  more  than  two  pounds  in  it,"  said 
Pollyooly. 


VINDICATES    HER   DIGNITY        103 

"Urn.  Well,  if  you  pay  that  check  into  it  you'll 
have  more  than  twenty-two  pounds  in  it,"  he  said 
with  a  complete  freedom  from  gloom.  "I'll  tell  you 
what,  I'll  go  with  you  to  the  post-office  on  my  way 
to  the  Courts  and  see  you  pay  it  in.  They  may  be 
rather  surprised  that  so  young  a  child  should  pay  so 
large  a  check  as  twenty  pounds." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

Pollyooly  fetched  her  bank-book  and  trotted  along 
beside  the  far-striding  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  to  the 
post-office.  He  explained  to  her  that  she  had  to  in- 
dorse the  check  by  writing  her  name  on  the  back  of 
it,  and  saw  it  safely  paid  in.  Pollyooly  thanked  him 
politely,  and  returned  to  the  Temple  with  the  air  of 
a  plutocrat.  Mr.  Montague  Fitzgerald  had  lifted 
the  burden  from  her  spirit.  Of  the  many  actions 
of  his  busy  life  few  were  noble,  more  were  in  the 
High  Court;  and  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  he  did 
Pollyooly  this  service  with  such  a  bitter  reluctance. 
He  had  written  the  check  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

Had  she  known  this,  it  is  to  be  doubted  that 
Pollyooly  would  have  been  deeply  moved;  she  was 
too  full  of  joy  at  her  relief  from  her  worst  care. 
Should  her  work  suddenly  cease,  the  Post-Office  Sav- 


104  POLLYOOLY 

ings  Bank  stood  as  a  firm  barrier  between  the  Lump 
and  the  workhouse  for  the  best  part  of  a  year;  one 
British  institution  counteracted  another.  She  moved 
about  the  world  a  blither  creature. 

It  was  perhaps  owing  to  this  blitheness  that  one 
afternoon  some  ten  days  later  she  lapsed  for  a  few 
minutes  from  the  high  dignity  she  had  prescribed 
for  herself  as  fitting  the  housekeeper  of  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin.  It  was  a  high  and  fine  dignity; 
she  always  walked  sedately ;  she  even  walked  up  Al- 
satia  without  the  truculent  swagger  she  had  been 
wont  to  assume,  when  she  went  to  visit  Mrs.  Brown ; 
she  shunned  her  old  Alsatian  acquaintances;  she 
never  ran  nowadays  save  when  she  forgot  herself. 

After  their  dinner  that  afternoon  she  mended  a 
rent  in  the  Lump's  frock  with  neatness  and  expedi- 
tion, for  not  only  had  she  passed  at  Muttle-Deeping 
school  the  seven  standards  Great  Britain  sets  before 
its  young,  but  also  she  had  occupied  a  high  place  in 
a  sewing  class.  Then  they  sallied  forth  to  take  the 
air  in  the  gardens  on  the  Thames  Embankment. 

But  as  they  went  out  of  the  Tudor  Street  gate,  the 
dulcet  strains  of  a  barrel-organ  fell  on  their  ears; 
and  half-way  up  Alsatia  they  saw  the  usual  far-too- 


VINDICATES    HER   DIGNITY        105 

intelligent-to-work  alien  grinding  out  the  opera  of 
the  poor.  The  music  was  too  much  for  Pollyooly's 
dignity;  it  was  too  much  for  her  years.  She  gave  the 
Lump  into  the  care  of  a  somewhat  black  Alsatian 
maiden  and  joined  the  dancing  children. 

She  danced  lightly,  with  a  natural  grace  and  a 
delightful  abandon.  She  danced  with  a  spirit  so  en- 
tranced that  she  did  not  notice  the  presence  of  the 
big  man  with  the  sombrero  hat  and  the  mop  of  curls 
till  she  stopped  to  take  breath,  and  he  was  patting 
her  on  the  back. 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  James?"  he  cried  in  a  ring- 
ing, sonorous  voice  to  the  slight,  keen-eyed  man  who 
was  with  him.  "I  have  always  said  that  the  fairies 
have  migrated  to  the  slums  because  only  there  can 
llicy  find  that  atmosphere  of  the  vivid  joy  of  life  in 
which  alone  they  can  live." 

"Vivid  joy  of  grandmother!"  said  Mr.  James 
unsy  mpathet  ically . 

"But  here — here  in  Alsatia  we  have  seen  a  fairy 
dance,"  cried  the  big  man  with  a  loudness  little  short 
of  roaring. 

"You  idealists !"  said  Mr.  James  in  a  scoffing  tone. 

"You    moderns!      You    disgusting    moderns!" 


io6  POLLYOOLY 

cried  the  big  man  indignantly.  "What's  your  name, 
little  girl?" 

"Pollyooly,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly,  dropping  a  curt- 
sey, like  the  well-mannered  child  she  was;  and  she 
took  the  Lump's  hand. 

"Pollyooly,  the  Queen  of  the  slum  fairies,"  said 
the  big  man.  "Well,  I  want  a  model  for  a  set  of 
fairy  stories  I'm  illustrating;  and  you're  the  very 
model  I  want.  Will  you  sit  for  me?  You  under- 
stand? I  want  to  draw  you." 

"Would  it  take  long,  sir  ?"  said  Pollyooly,  politely 
ready  to  oblige  him. 

"Three  hours  a  day  for  about  a  month.  I'll  pay 
you  a  shilling  an  hour." 

Pollyooly's  eyes  sparkled;  the  very  mines  of  Gol- 
conda  opened  before  them.  Then  her  face  fell ;  and 
she  said,  "But  I  have  to  look  after  the  Lump — my 
little  brother  here." 

"Bring  him  with  you;  he  can  play  about  the 
studio — it's  large  enough,"  said  the  big  man ;  and  he 
stooped  and  looked  at  him.  "By  Jove,  it's  a  cherub — 
a  genuine  cherub.  Look,  James :  did  you  ever  see  a 
finer  cherub?  Look  at  his  dimples,"  he  cried. 


VINDICATES    HER    DIGNITY        107 

"Why,  he's  clean !"  said  Mr.  James  with  the  liveli- 
est surprise. 

"The  Lump's  always  clean,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"There !  He's  always  clean,"  cried  the  big  man. 
"Will  you  be  my  model,  little  girl?" 

Pollyooly  considered  for  a  moment:  here  was 
wealth  indeed.  Then  she  said  loyally,  "I  could  do 
it  in  the  afternoon  without  interfering  with  my 
work,  if  Mr.  Ruffin  would  let  me ;  but  I  should  have 
to  ask  him." 

"Bother  Mr.  Ruffin !"  cried  the  big  man  with  tre- 
mendous impatience. 

"Mr.  Ruffin  won't  say  'no,'  when  he  learns  that 
it's  eighteen  shillings  a  week.  He'll  drown — in 
floods  of  unexpected  beer,"  said  Mr.  James. 

"No:  he  wouldn't!  He's  a  gentleman.  He  lives 
in  the  Temple.  I'm  his  housekeeper ;  and  he  doesn't 
drink  beer.  It  isn't  good  enough  for  him,"  said 
Pollyooly  with  indignant  heat. 

"Oh,  come:  beer  is  good  enough  for  any  man," 
said  the  big  man  in  a  pained  tone. 

"It  must  be  our  friend  the  Honorable  John,"  said 
Mr.  James. 


io8  POLLYOOLY 

"So  it  must,"  said  the  big  man.  "But  come  along, 
little  girl,  let's  go  and  have  a  drink  and  arrange 
things." 

"You  can't  take  these  children  into  a  pub,"  said 
Mr.  James. 

"That's  it!  That's  it!"  cried  the  big  man  furi- 
ously. "I  find  a  fairy  dancing  in  a  slum;  and  I  can't 
take  her  into  a  public-house  to  stand  her  a  drink. 
What  a  country !" 

"Better  come  to  the  Honorable  John's  rooms; 
and  settle  it  with  him,"  said  Mr.  James. 

"He  won't  be  in  yet.  He  doesn't  come  in  from 
the  Law  Courts  till  four;  and  then  he  has  his  tea 
and  goes  out  again,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Well,  we'll  call  at  four,"  said  the  big  man. 

"And  please,  I'd  rather  you  didn't  say  you  saw 
me  dancing  to  that  organ.  Mr.  Ruffin  mightn't 
think  it  dignified;  and  I'm  his  housekeeper,"  said 
Pollyooly  a  little  anxiously. 

•  "There's  a  conspiracy !  A  conspiracy  for  the  re- 
pression of  fairies!  I  have  always  thought  it;  and 
now  I  know  it.  It's  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff,"  roared 
the  big  man.  "Rufrm  is  in  it.  He's  the  head  of  it. 
I've  always  suspected  him.  He  represses  fairies," 


VINDICATES   HER   DIGNITY        109 

"All  right,  little  girl.  Your  secret  shall  be  pre- 
served," said  Mr.  James.  "Come  on,  Vance. 
Where  shall  we  go  for  an  hour?" 

"I  must  have  beer.  I  have  been  thrilled  to  the 
depths  of  my  being  by  this  amazing  discovery.  I 
must  have  lots  of  beer,"  cried  the  big  man. 

"All  right.  Only  come  along.  You're  collecting 
a  crowd,"  said  Mr.  James,  thrusting  an  arm 
through  his  and  dragging  him  away. 

Pollyooly  took  the  Lump  for  his  airing,  and  with 
an  eager  eye  on  the  face  of  Big  Ben,  in  the  Clock 
Tower  up  the  river,  she  dreamed  the  dreams  of 
Alnaschar. 

At  a  few  minutes  to  four  she  returned  to  the 
Temple ;  and  at  four  she  admitted  the  big  man  and 
Mr.  James  into  the  chambers  of  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin.  Almost  on  their  heels  came  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  himself;  and  she  followed  him  into  his 
sitting-room. 

At  the  sight  of  the  big  man  he  assumed  swiftly  a 
defensive  air,  raised  his  hand,  and  said  sternly, 
"Now,  do  not  gush  upon  me,  Vance.  I  will  not 
have  it.  An  Englishman's  house  is  his  castle.  Be 
moderate — be  sane." 


no  POLLYOOLY 

"Gush?  I  never  gush!"  roared  the  big  man  in- 
dignantly. "I  have  come  for  this  little  girl — for 
Pollyooly." 

"You  won't  get  her,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  with  curt  decision. 

"I  don't  want  her,"  said  the  big  man.  "At  least 
I  don't  want  to  take  her  away  from  you.  I  want 
her  to  sit  to  me.  I'm  illustrating  a  set  of  fairy 
stories ;  and  I  must  have  her.  She  must  sit  for  me. 
She's  the  one  model  in  London — in  England — in 
the  world." 

His  voice  rose  to  a  bellow  beside  which  the  most 
wrathful  trumpeting  of  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  would 
have  sounded  but  as  the  cooing  of  a  dove. 

"An  artist's  model?"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  looking  at  Pollyooly  with  a  pained  air.  "I 
once  obliged  a  friend  by  sitting  as  model  for  a 
Roman  patrician  watching  a  gladiatorial  show — a 
disreputable  occupation — and  I  found  it  uncom- 
monly dull  and  stiffening." 

"Please,  sir:  it's  a  shilling  an  hour,"  said  Polly- 
ooly anxiously. 

"Wealth — wealth  beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice," 


VINDICATES    HER    DIGNITY        in 

said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  smiling  at  her. 
"You  can  do  as  you  like,  Mrs.  Bride." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with  shining 
eyes. 

"But  I  observe  that  Mr.  Vance  calls  you  'Polly- 
ooly,' "  he  went  on  in  a  tone  of  cold  disapproval. 
•'This  is  to  be  too  familiar  on  so  short  an  acquaint- 
ance. We  can  not  have  that  kind  of  thing.  These 
artists  are  presumptuous  fellows,  Mrs.  Bride.  You 
must  insist  on  being  treated  respectfully;  the  dig- 
nity of  your  position  as  my  housekeeper  demands  it." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Understand  then,  Vance,  that  to  you  Pollyooly 
is  'Mrs.  Bride.'  In  my  unbending  moments  I  may 
call  her  Pollyooly!  but  you — never.  The  artist 
must  keep  his  place,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  with  an  air  of  splendid  hauteur. 

"You  swells!  The  airs  you  give  yourselves!" 
roared  Hilary  Vance. 

"I  am  one  of  the  sixty  thousand  living  Britons 
with  Plantagenet  blood  in  my  veins;  and  we  will 
now  have  tea,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

Over  their  tea  they  discussed  the  matter  of  Polly- 


H2  POLLYOOLY 

ooly's  hours,  and  decided  that  from  three  to  six 
she  should  sit  to  Hilary  Vance.  He  instructed  her 
very  earnestly  to  come  in  the  frock  she  was  wearing 
and  not  in  her  best. 

At  two  o'clock  the  next  afternoon  therefore  she 
was  at  the  Temple  station,  very  eager  to  begin  earn- 
ing a  shilling  an  hour.  She  took  a  half  return 
ticket  to  Chelsea  for  herself,  since  the  ingrained 
frugality  of  her  mind  impelled  her  to  reckon  her- 
self under  eleven  for  purposes  of  traveling  by  rail. 

Hilary  Vance  welcomed  her  with  loud  enthu- 
siasm to  a  large  and  lofty  studio,  of  which  the 
chief  furniture  was  a  line  of  canvases,  ranged  three 
and  four  deep,  with  their  faces  to  the  wall,  along 
two  sides  of  the  room. 

Pollyooly  was  soon  posed  in  the  required  fairy- 
like  attitude  on  a  chair  on  a  little  dais  at  the  end  of 
the  room ;  Hilary  Vance  fell  to  work ;  and  the  Lump, 
deserting  the  maneless,  but  wooden,  horse  which 
Pollyooly  had  brought  for  his  entertainment,  pro- 
ceeded on  a  toddling  tour  of  examination  round 
this  new  and  spacious  chamber.  He;  soon  discovered 
that  on  the  other  side  of  the  canvases  were  bright 
colors,  and  turned  several  of  them  over.  Unfor- 


VINDICATES   HER    DIGNITY        113 

tunately  each,  like  the  floor  and  everything  else  in 
the  studio,  was  covered  with  a  thick  layer  of  black 
dust ;  and  as  she  saw  him  grow  grimier  and  grimier, 
an  expression  of  acute  anguish  deepened  and  deep- 
ened on  Pollyooly's  face. 

At  last  Hilary  Vance  perceived  it  and  said, 
"What's  the  matter,  Pollyooly?  Why  are  you  un- 
happy ?" 

"Oh,  sir,  it  is  so  dirty,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"What  is  so  dirty?"  said  Hilary  Vance  in  a  tone 
of  lively  surprise. 

"Everything,"  said  Pollyooly. 

Hilary  Vance  looked  round  the  studio  and  the 
expression  of  surprise  deepened  on  his  face:  "So 
it  is,"  he  said.  "Curious — I  never  noticed  it.  Mrs. 
Thomas  must  neglect  it." 

"I  expect  she's  an  old  woman  who  drinks,"  said 
Pollyooly  thoughtfully,  but  with  grave  conviction. 

"Now,  that's  an  admirable  description  of  Mrs. 
Thomas!"  cried  Hilary  Vance  in  even  greater  sur- 
prise. "How  on  earth  did  you  guess  it?" 

"They're  generally  like  that,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly 
in  the  tone  of  one  who  has  had  wide  experience. 
"Can  I  clean  it  after  I've  done  sitting?" 


1 14  POLLYOOLY 

"Robin  Goodfellow  and  Titania  in  one,"  said  Hil- 
ary Vance  in  a  hushed  voice.  "Amazing!  How 
unfortunate  it  is  that  Ruffin  has  already  engaged 
you  as  his  housekeeper !  I  have  missed  a  chance — a 
great  chance.  If  ever  you  find  yourself  unable  to 
tolerate  his  unbearable  airs  of  the  aristocrat,  come 
to  me.  Come  at  once." 

"I  shan't  ever  want  to  leave  Mr.  Ruffin,  sir,"  said 
Pollyooly  firmly. 

"You  can  never  tell.  I  find  those  airs  very  wear- 
ing; and  when  you  do,  come  to  me." 

"Yes,  sir.  Thank  you,  sir.  And  may  I  clean  this 
room  ?"  said  Pollyooly,  still  heavily  oppressed  by  its 
dirtiness. 

"You  shall,"  said  Hilary  Vance. 

Soon  after  four  he  stopped  working;  Pollyooly 
washed  the  Lump  in  the  bedroom  adjoining  the 
studio;  and  they  had  tea,  a  splendid  tea  of  cakes 
and  milk.  Over  it  Hilary  Vance  returned  to  his 
theory  that  the  fairies  had  migrated  to  the  slums, 
and  discoursed  on  it  with  a  flamboyant  enthusiasm 
which  impressed  but  did  not  convince  Pollyooly. 

Alsatia  had  afforded  her  no  evidence  whatever  of 
the  truth  of  his  theory. 


VINDICATES    HER   DIGNITY        115 

After  tea  he  worked  again  till  a  quarter  to  six; 
then  he  paid  Pollyooly,  went  out,  and  left  the  studio 
to  her  ministrations. 

She  found  brooms  and  brushes  and  dusters,  all 
very  dirty,  in  the  very  dirty  little  kitchen;  and  she 
was  glad  that  Hilary  Vance  had  required  her  to  sit 
to  him  in  her  blue  print  working-frock.  She  swept 
and  dusted  with  an  eager  vigor  till  half-past  seven. 
For  the  last  hour  of  her  toil  the  Lump  slept  on  Hil- 
ary Vance's  bed. 

When  she  had  done  she  wrote  a  note  to  the  artist, 
and  set  it  on  the  mantelpiece.  It  ran : 

"Please,  Mr.  Vance,  the  rugs  ought  to  be  taken 
outside  and  shook  and  the  floor  scrubbed." 

Then,  filled  with  a  gratifying  sense  of  having  ac- 
complished a  meritorious  task,  she  conveyed  the 
sleepy  Lump  home. 

The  next  afternoon  Hilary  Vance  welcomed  her 
buoyantly,  his  large  face  shining  richly  with  a  warm 
satisfaction. 

"I  had  to  be  very  firm  with  Mrs.  Thomas ;  and  I 
was,"  he  cried  with  beaming  pride.  "The  memory 
of  your  pained  face,  Pollyooly,  nerved  me  to  the 


n6  POLLYOOLY 

manly  effort ;  it  spurred  me  on  to  the  stern  expres- 
sion of  human  dignity.  The  woman  collapsed  be- 
fore it — collapsed  utterly.  Do  you  always  exercise 
this  stimulating  effect  on  human  character?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly,  as 
ever  polite  before  the  incomprehensible. 

The  floor  was  still  wet  (far  too  wet,  Pollyooly 
thought)  from  its  scrubbing;  the  rugs  had  gone  to 
the  carpet-beaters;  and  Pollyooly  sat  and  watched 
the  exploring  Lump  wander  about  the  transformed 
studio  in  peace.  He  could  no  longer  acquire  grime. 
For  much  of  the  afternoon  Hilary  Vance  talked  on 
in  tones  of  triumph  about  his  masterly  handling 
of  Mrs.  Thomas;  and  that  evening  at  the  end  of 
her  sitting  he  gave  Pollyooly  eight  shillings  instead 
of  three. 

Pollyooly  looked  at  the  extra  five  shillings  with 
her  brow  knitted  in  a  perplexed  frown  and  said, 
"Please,  sir,  you've  given  me  too  much." 

"No:  three  shillings  for  sitting  and  five  for  clean- 
ing," said  Hilary  Vance. 

"Oh,  but  five  shillings  is  ever  so  much  too  much 
for  a  little  bit  of  work  like  that!"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Not  at  all !"  cried  Hilary  Vance.    "Five  shillings 


VINDICATES    HER   DIGNITY        117 

is  really  too  little.  There's  not  only  the  actual 
work ;  there's  the  invaluable  moral  effect  on  my 
character.  I  have  learned  that  I  can  be  firm  with  a 
woman.  I  am  another,  stronger  man." 

Against  this  view  of  her  services  Pollyooly  could 
urge  nothing.  She  did  not  know  what  to  urge, 
since  she  had  very  little  understanding  of  what  she 
had  done.  She  put  the  eight  shillings  in  her  pocket 
and  thanked  him  warmly. 

Henceforward  she  came  every  day  at  three  to  his 
studio ;  and  every  morning  she  added  to  the  Savings 
Bank  barrier  between  the  Lump  and  the  workhouse. 
Sometimes  when  she  came  she  found  Hilary  Vance 
still  working  with  another  model,  of  the  name  of 
Ermyntrude,  his  morning  model.  She  was  a  young 
woman  of  masterful  air,  a  vinegarish  aspect,  a  high 
color,  and  a  most  deplorable  squint.  Always  she 
wore  an  execrable  feathered  hat  even  more  deplor- 
able than  her  squint.  Hilary  Vance  was  not  using 
her  as  a  model  for  the  illustrations  of  the  set  of 
fairy  stories.  She  posed  to  him  for  the  illustrations 
of  a  very  different  set  of  stories,  realistic  slum 
stories.  Either  she  ignored  Pollyooly  altogether,  or 
gave  herself  insufferable  airs.  Pollyooly  did  not 


ii8  POLLYOOLY 

like  her  at  all;  she  could  not  understand  the  satis- 
faction Hilary  Vance  drew  from  her;  he  hardly  ever 
failed  to  say  in  tones  of  the  warmest  approval  that 
she  was  an  absolutely  perfect  type. 

Sometimes  a  friend  of  Hilary  Vance  would  come 
in  and  talk  to  him  as  he  worked;  but  for  the  most 
part,  Pollyooly  sat  for  hour  after  hour  in  a  quiet, 
untiring  content.  Sometimes  Hilary  Vance  would 
ask  her  what  she  thought  about.  Sometimes  she 
could  tell  him;  sometimes  she  could  not.  She 
thought  about  so  many  things.  Often  she  thought 
about  her  swelling  bank  account. 

Then  one  afternoon  he  was  surprised  to  observe 
a  deep  frown  on  her  usually  so  serene  brow. 

"Hullo !  Whatever's  the  matter  ?  What  are  you 
thinking  about,  Pollyooly?"  he  cried  in  great  sur- 
prise. "I  was  getting  into  the  way  of  believing  you 
to  be  the  serene  and  ageless  fairy,  utterly  free  from 
all  the  cares  which  harass  us  common  mortals. 
What  is  it  ?  I  must  know.  I  insist  on  knowing." 

Pollyooly  flushed  faintly  and  said,  "Please,  sir: 
it's  Henry  Wiggins.  He — he  bothers  me." 

"Who  is  Henry  Wiggins?    How  dare  he  bother 


VINDICATES    HER    DIGNITY        119 

you  ?  What  does  he  do  ?"  cried  Hilary  Vance  in  a 
terrible  voice. 

"Please,  sir,  he's  a  little  boy  who  lives  in  the  house 
we  used  to  live  in  with  Aunt  Hannah.  And  when  he 
sees  me  go  out  with  the  Lump  he  follows  us  and 
shouts  Ginger  at  me  because  my  hair  is  red." 

"Monstrous!  Monstrous!"  cried  Hilary  Vance. 
"Why  don't  you  smack  him — hard  ?" 

"I  used  to,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  tone  of 
mournful  regret.  "But  I  can't  do  it  any  longer,  now 
that  I'm  Mr.  Ruffin's  housekeeper." 

"And  why  not?"  cried  Mr.  Hilary  Vance.  "Who 
prevents  you?" 

"It's  a  position  of  dignity,  sir.  Mr.  Ruffin  said 
it  was,"  said  Pollyooly  in  an  explanatory  tone.  "And 
it  wouldn't  do  for  me  to  smack  Henry  Wiggins 
now.  Housekeepers  aren't  supposed  to.  I'm  sure 
they're  not." 

Hilary  Vance  looked  at  her  sadly  and  shook  his 
head  gloomily,  "I'm  afraid  that  association  with 
that  young  aristocrat  is  corrupting  you,  Pollyooly." 

"I'm  sure  it  isn't!"  said  Pollyooly,  in  her  indig- 
nant heat  forgetting  to  be  polite  and  say  "sir." 


120  POLLYOOLY 

"I'm  a  Socialist  myself;  and  I'm  thankful  to  say 
that  I  grow  more  and  more  class-conscious  every 
day,"  said  Hilary  Vance  still  gloomily.  "But  if 
you  feel  it  due  to  your  personal  human  dignity  to 
smack  Henry  Wiggins,  you  oughtn't  to  let  your  offi- 
cial dignity  stand  in  your  way." 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  politely. 

"The  vindication  of  one's  personal  human  dignity 
is  the  most  important  thing  in  life.  You  must  re- 
sign!" he  roared,  warming  to  a  sudden  enthusiasm. 

"What's  that,  sir?"  said  Pollyooly  calmly. 

She  had  grown  used  to  his  roaring  enthusiasms. 
They  no  longer  ruffled  her  serenity. 

"You  must  give  up  being  the  Honorable  John's 
housekeeper,"  he  roared. 

"Oh,  I  couldn't  do  that!"  cried  Pollyooly,  start- 
led. "How  should  we  live,  the  Lump  and  me?" 

"You — must — vindicate — your — personal — hu- 
man— dignity!"  roared  Hilary  Vance. 

He  laid  down  his  pencil  in  order  to  punctuate 
each  word  by  slapping  his  right  hand  down  on  his 
left.  The  action  and  the  voice  produced  emphasis. 

Pollyooly  gazed  at  him  with  calm  eyes. 

"You  will  find  other  work,"  lie  roared  on  a  more 


VINDICATES    HER    DIGNITY        121 

gentle  note.  "I  can  not  employ  you  myself  because 
you  will  have  left  the  service  of  John  Ruffin  by  my 
advice ;  and  it  would  not  be  friendly  of  me.  The  ac- 
tion would  be  open  to  misconstruction.  But  you 
will  find  other  work — you  are  sure  to."  Pollyooly 
shook  her  head :  "It  would  be  very  hard  to  do,  sir," 
she  said  with  the  conviction  born  of  experience. 
Then  she  added  in  a  tone  of  finality,  "Besides,  it 
isn't  only  that — there's  Mr.  Ruffin's  bacon." 

"Bacon!  Mr.  Ruffin's  bacon!  What  is  bacon 
when  personal  human  dignity  is  at  stake?"  roared 
Hilary  Vance  louder  than  ever. 

"No  one  but  me  can  cook  it  just  as  he  likes  it," 
said  Pollyooly. 

Hilary  Vance  raged  and  stormed  for  a  while,  for 
personal  human  dignity  bulked  enormous  in  his 
mind  at  the  moment;  but  he  could  not  dislodge 
Pollyooly  from  her  inexpugnable  position  behind 
the  bacon  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin.  He  went 
on  with  his  work  growling,  at  first  loudly  then  more 
quietly. 

Pollyooly  resumed  her  thoughtful  meditation  on 
Henry  Wiggins. 

Presently  her  face  brightened. 


122  POLLYOOLY 

"What  is  it?  Have  you  decided  to  resign?"  said 
Hilary  Vance  eagerly. 

"No,  sir.  But  I  think  I  can  see  how  to  do  it. 
Next  time  I  come  across  Henry  Wiggins,  I'll  pre- 
tend I'm  not  Mr.  Ruffin's  housekeeper  for  a  bit — 
just  till  I've  smacked  him,"  said  Pollyooly  with  an 
angel  smile. 

Hilary  Vance  stared  at  her;  then  he  groaned, 
"Compromise — dastardly  compromise!  Oh,  woman 
— woman !" 

Pollyooly  was  not  one  to  let  grass  grow  under 
her  feet,  little  likely  as  it  was  to  make  the  attempt 
in  the  paved  and  macadamized  King's  Bench  Walk ; 
and  that  very  evening  she  sallied  forth  to  the  en- 
counter with  Henry  Wiggins. 

As  she  had  hoped,  he  was  vociferous  among  his 
comrades  in  Alsatia,  and  he  caught  sight  of  her  as 
she  passed  very  slowly  across  the  bottom  of  it. 

With  a  shrill  yell  of  "Ginger !"  he  dashed  in  pur- 
suit 

Pollyooly  quickened  her  steps,  and  she  was  just 
turning  the  corner  of  Temple  Chambers,  that  short, 
quiet  and  empty  street  leading  to  the  Thames  Em- 
bankment. 


VINDICATES    HER    DIGNITY        123 

He  dashed  after  her  with  another  yell  of  "Gin- 
ger!" and  as  he  came  round  the  corner,  he  saw  her 
running  down  the  street.  Flight — flight  on  the 
part  of  Pollyooly — seemed  too  good  to  be  true;  and 
the  street  echoed  and  reechoed  to  his  yells  of  "Gin- 
get"!" 

She  turned  the  right-hand  corner  of  the  Embank- 
ment. He  bolted  round  it,  and  fetched  up  with  a 
jerk  that  nearly  brought  both  of  them  to  the  ground 
as  the  waiting  Pollyooly  sprang  and  gripped  him  by 
the  hair. 

He  let  out  a  yell  of  horrified  surprise ;  and  then  the 
smacks  came  with  all  the  righteous  force  of  Polly- 
ooly's  vengeful  arm.  He  kicked  but  feebly  at  her 
shins;  but  his  howls  of  repentance  were  of  the 
piercing  kind  which  comes  from  the  heart. 

Pollyooly  jerked  his  hair  and  smacked,  and  jerked 
and  smacked  till  she  could  smack  no  more. 

Then  she  flung  the  remorseful  boy  from  her  and 
said,  "That  will  teach  you  to  call  me  Ginger,  Henry 
Wiggins." 

She  spoke  with  a  certain  lack  of  accuracy;  but 
Henry  Wiggins  understood  her.  He  would  not 
call  her  Ginger  for  many  days;  and  after  that  he 


124  POLLYOOLY 

would  call  her  Ginger  only  from  a  safe  distance. 
He  would  never  again  be  lured  to  headlong  pursuit. 
Pollyooly  walked  down  the  Thames  Embankment 
with  the  truculent  swagger  of  the  avenger  who  has 
vindicated  his  personal  human  dignity.  But  as  she 
turned  into  the  Temple  her  gait  suddenly  changed. 
It  had  become  the  gait  of  the  perfect  housekeeper. 
She  had  ceased  pretending. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE   SQUARING   OF   ERMYNTRUDE 

THE  next  afternoon  the  mind  of  Hilary  Vance 
was  full  of  another  matter;  and  he  did  not  re- 
member the  personal  human  dignity  of  Pollyooly 
till  he  had  been  working  for  nearly  an  hour. 

Then  he  said  abruptly  "Ha !  What  about  Henry 
Wiggins  ?" 

"It's  all  right,  sir.  He  won't  bother  me  any 
more — at  least  not  for  a  long  time,"  said  Pollyooly 
cheerfully. 

"Did  you  compromise?"  said  Hilary  Vance 
eagerly. 

"I  pretended ;  and  I  smacked  him,"  said  Pollyooly 
in  a  tone  of  quiet  joy. 

Hilary  Vance  groaned  heavily  and  went  on  with 
his  work. 

At  a  quarter  past  four  he  stopped  working,  and 
Pollyooly  rose  from  her  chair,  stretched  herself, 
and  took  the  stiffness  out  of  her  legs  with  three  or 

125 


126  POLLYOOLY 

four  little  kicks.  She  was  just  stepping  off  the  dais 
when  Mr.  James  entered. 

"Ah,  you're  the  very  man  I  wanted  to  see,"  said 
Hilary  Vance  joyfully.  "I've  got  a  magnificent 
idea." 

"Then  Heaven  help  you !"  said  Mr.  James  with  a 
touch  of  dismay  in  his  tone. 

"I'm  going  to  try  the  anesthetic  revelation,"  said 
Hilary  Vance,  unperturbed.  There  was  even  a  note 
of  pride  in  his  tone. 

"And  what  may  that  be?"  said  Mr.  James. 

"You  take  gas — ordinary  dentist's  gas — mixed 
with  a  large  proportion  of  air;  and  without  your 
losing  consciousness,  the  walls  of  the  flesh  vanish, 
you  sally  forth  into  the  Empyrean,  and  see  visions. 
I  shall  see  colors  undreamed  of  by  the  artist,  and 
wonderful  beings,  the  amazing  denizens  of  the  sky," 
said  Hilary  Vance,  warming  to  enthusiasm. 

"You  will.  You  will  see  scarlet  snakes  and  pur- 
ple opossums,"  said  Mr.  James. 

"Purple  opossums — glorious !"  said  Hilary  Vance 
joyfully.  "You  will  come  with  me?" 

"I  don't  think  gas  is  exactly  what  you  want,  Hi- 
lary," said  Mr.  James  thoughtfully. 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     127 

"My  mind  is  made  up.  It's  no  use  your  trying 
to  stop  me.  Will  you  come?"  said  Hilary  Vance 
firmly. 

"I  suppose  I  must,"  said  Mr.  James  gloomily. 
"Somebody  must  try  to  help  you  to  make  as  little  of 
a  fool  of  yourself  as  possible.  All  my  leisure  seems 
to  be  spent  in  saving  you  from  the  consequences  of 
your  follies." 

"You  are  so  unsympathetic,"  said  Hilary  Vance 
somewhat  bitterly. 

"I'm  Art's  martyr;  you  can't  expect  me  to  like 
it,"  said  Mr.  James.  "Let's  have  tea." 

Pollyooly  made  the  tea  and  laid  the  table.  She 
and  the  Lump  sat  down  to  it,  as  did  Mr.  James. 
Hilary  Vance  took  his  walking  up  and  down  the 
studio.  He  was  too  full  of  nervous  energy  to  sit 
down  save  when  he  was  working. 

"Well,  let's  hear  about  this  new  idiocy,"  said  Mr. 
James  with  the  gloomy  frankness  of  a  friend.  "I'll 
have  three  lumps  in  my  tea  to-day,  Pollyooly,  please. 
My  bitter  lot  needs  sweetening." 

"Idiocy!  It's  no  idiocy!"  cried  Hilary  Vance 
indignantly.  "I  read  about  it  in  William  James' 
Varieties  of  Religions  Experience;  and  then  I 


128  POLLYOOLY 

went  to  my  dentist  yesterday  and  talked  to  him  about 
it.  I  got  him  interested  in  it — 

"He's  stopped,  three  of  your  teeth;  he  ought  to 
know  you  better,"  Mr.  James  complained. 

"He  agreed  that  if  I'd  take  the  gas,  he'd  give  it 
to  me." 

"He  ought  to  be  ashamed  of  himself,"  said  Mr. 
James  with  conviction. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it!"  cried  Hilary  Vance.  "If  an 
ordinary  man  under  its  influence  sees  visions,  think 
of  what  I  shall  see !" 

"I've  told  you  what  you'll  see,"  said  Mr.  James 
coldly.  "At  what  time  do  you  commit  this  folly?" 

"In  the  evening.  I  have  to  take  the  gas  fasting,  of 
course;  so  I  shan't  have  any  dinner.  You'd  better 
meet  me  at  the  Gabrinus  at  a  quarter  to  nine,"  said 
Hilary  Vance. 

Mr.  James  agreed;  and  for  the  rest  of  tea  Hilary 
Vance  talked  with  eloquent  enthusiasm  of  the  vis- 
ions he  was  going  to  see.  When  they  had  finished, 
Pollyooly  cleared  the  table  and  went  back  to  her 
seat  on  the  dais.  Mr.  James  rose  and  bade  them 
good-by. 

At  the  door  he  paused  and  said  in  a  very  bitter 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     129 

tone,  "I  do  assure  you,  Hilary — on  my  word  of 
honor — that  gas  is  the  very  last  thing  you  need." 

"Oh,  get  out!     Get  out!"  said  Hilary  Vance. 

Mr.  James  got  out. 

The  next  afternoon  Polly ooly  observed  that  Mr. 
Hilary  Vance  was  enjoying  an  uncommon  lightness 
of  spirit.  He  sang,  or  to  be  exact  he  bellowed 
heartily,  though  with  little  regard  to  time  or  tune, 
over  his  work.  He  bubbled  over  with  laughter. 
Then  there  came  a  gentle  knock  at  the  front  door; 
he  went  to  it,  and  ushered  Ermyntrude  into  the 
studio. 

She  came  in  bridling,  glanced  with  contemptuous 
indifference  at  Pollyooly  and  the  Lump,  and  said 
in  a  mincing,  languishing  voice :  "O  Tlary,  why 
ever  didn't  you  come  this  mornin'  to  tyke  me  to 
choose  my  engygement  ring  as  you  said  you  would. 
I  didn't  expeck  you  to  behyve  like  this,  when  it  was 
only  last  night  you  harsked  me  to  be  yours." 

Mr.  Hilary  Vance  looked  at  her  blankly,  opened 
his  mouth,  and  gasped  as  only  a  big  man  can  gasp : 
"Last  night?  Asked  you  to  be  mine?"  he  said  in 
blank  consternation. 

"Last  night  as  ever  was,"  simpered  Ermyntrude, 


130  POLLYOOLY 

with  a  fond  smile  which  brought  out  the  cold  per- 
spiration in  beads  on  the  artist's  forehead. 

"I — I — wasn't  myself  last  night,"  he  stammered. 

"Now  don't  sye  as  you'd  bin  drinkin',  'Ilary — " 

"Of  course  I  hadn't  been  drinking!  I  never 
drink!"  cried  Hilary  Vance  indignantly.  "At  least 
I  never  drink  too  much,"  he  added  in  a  gentler 
voice. 

"No :  you  was  as  sober  as  a  judge.  I  never  seed 
you  so  serious.  An'  when  you  harsked  me  to  be 
yours,  I  was  that  tyken  aback  you  could  'ave 
knocked  me  down  with  ai  feather,"  said  Ermyn- 
trude;  and  she  bridled  again  in  a  way  to  make  the 
blood  run  cold. 

Hilary  Vance  grasped  his  abundant,  but  crinkly, 
curls  with  both  hands,  and  cried  in  a  tone  of  hor- 
ror, "I  really  asked  you  to  be  mine?" 

"Before  witnesses,  'Ilary.  Not  but  what  I'd  bin 
expectin'  it — for  months — ever  since  I  sat  to  you 
for  them  first  East-end  pictchoors,  and  you  paid  me 
all  them  attentions.  They  was  most  marked." 

"You're  mistaken,  Ermyntrude — quite  mistaken. 
I  never  paid  you  any  attentions!"  cried  Hilary 
Vance  in  a  tone  of  anguished  protest. 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     131 

"Ho,  yus ;  you  did,"  said  Ermyntrude  very  firmly. 
"They  began  with  haffability ;  an'  then  you  giv'  me 
flowers  an1  took  me  to  music  'alls.  Why,  you  give 
me  this  'at." 

"No!  I  never  gave  you  that  hat!"  cried  Hilary 
Vance  in  a  sudden  bellow  of  protest. 

"Well,  you  giv'  me  the  money  for  it  It's  the 
syme  thing,"  said  Ermyntrude  with  unabated  firm- 
ness. 

"Yes ;  I  told  you  to  buy  a  hat — the  hat  of  your 
choice.  I  wanted  to  draw  you  in  it.  But  I  never 
bought  that  hat — never!  I  will  not  endure  the  as- 
persion !"  bellowed  Hilary  Vance. 

"Well,  I've  bin  expectin'  you  to  propose  ever 
since;  an'  las'  night  you  proposed  proper — before 
witnesses,"  said  Ermyntrude,  returning  to  her  main 
position. 

"I  couldn't  have  done  it — I  couldn't,"  muttered 
Hilary  Vance  in  the  voice  of  a  broken  man;  and 
on  his  face  rested  a  vast  dismay. 

"You're  never  goin'  to  be  dishonorable  as  to  go 
an'  deny  it!"  cried  Ermyntrude  shrilly. 

"I  wasn't  myself,"  groaned  Hilary  Vance. 

"Oh,  'Ilary,  'ow  can  you  sye  it,  when  I  ses  to 


132  POLLYOOLY 

Gwendolen  Briggs  as  I'd  never  seen  you  so  se- 
rious?" cried  Ermyntrtide  yet  more  shrilly.  "An' 
you  was  talkin'  somethin'  wunnerful  all  the  time, 
callin'  me  your  slum  princess — not  but  what  I'd 
'ave  yer  ter  know  I  live  in  the  Wandsworth  Road, 
a  most  respecterble  nyeghber'ood.  .  .  .  An'  when 
we  came  back  'ere  you  harsked  me  to  nyme  the  dye." 

"Came  back  here  ?  Asked  you  to  name  the  day  ?" 
wailed  Hilary  Vance. 

"You're  never  goin'  to  deny  it,  when  Gwendolen 
Briggs  and  a  friend  of  'ers,  nymed  George  Walker, 
'card  you  sye  it — to  sye  nothink  of  Mr.  Jymes." 

"If  half  London  heard  me  say  it,  what's  the  good 
of  my  denying  it?"  cried  Hilary  Vance  in  a  tone  of 
utter  despair. 

"I  knew  you  wouldn't.  You  ain't  one  of  them 
as  'ud  plye  fast  an'  loose  with  a  young  lydy.  But 
I  did  expeck  you  to  receive  me  different  from  this— 
warmer  like,"  said  Ermyntrude  in  a  softer,  more 
alluring  voice ;  and  she  sidled  toward  him,  with  ap- 
pealing eyes,  appealing  to  opposite  corners  of  the 
room. 

Hilary  Vance  backed  hastily  away  from  her,  and 
said  faintly,  "The  matter  has  come  as  a  surprise 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     133 

to  me.  My  memories  of  last  night  are  so  badly  con- 
fused." 

"Well,  you'd  better  get  them  clear,  'Ilary.  My 
lawyer  says  as  'ow  a  promise  of  marriage  given  be- 
fore witnesses  is  binding,"  said  Ermyntrude. 

"Your  lawyer?"  cried  Hilary  Vance. 

"Well,  you  promised  to  tyke  me  out  ter  buy  the 
engygement  ring;  an'  when  you  didn't  come,  I  went 
to  see  my  lawyer;  an'  'e  tells  me  that  it's  harl 
ryght,"  said  Ermyntrude,  in  a  tone  of  cold  menace. 

"All  right?  Oh,  heavens!"  cried  Hilary  Vance; 
and  he  plunged  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  and 
walked  heavily  up  and  down  the  room  with  a  su- 
pernal gloom  on  his  face.  Now  and  again  he 
groaned. 

Ermyntrude  sat  down  in  a  chair  and  watched  him 
with  the  cold  eye  of  a  proprietor.  At  the  end  of  three 
minutes  she  said  in  a  yet  more  threatening  tone: 
"What  are  you  goin'  on  like  this  for,  'Ilary  ?  I  'ope 
as  'ow  you're  goin'  to  behyve  like  a  man  of  Honor." 
She  laid  uncommon  stress  on  the  "h"  in  honor. 

"I  must  think  it  over  ...  I  must  think  it 
over  ...  Go  now  .  .  .  There's  a  good 
girl  .  .  .  go,"  said  Hilary  Vance  in  a  shaky  voice. 


134  POLLYOOLY 

Ermyntrude  rose  with  an  air  of  great  dignity: 
"I  don't  unnerstand  your  manner,  'Ilary,"  she  said 
with  stern  coldness.  "But  since  you  harske  me,  I'll 
leave  you  to  think  it  hover.  But  you  think  it  hover 
right.  Don't  you  go  tryin'  to  plye  no  tricks  on  me, 
'Ilary,  for  the  lor  is  the  lor.  Good  hafternoon." 

She  left  the  room  with  extraordinary  dignity,  but 
rather  spoiled  a  fine  exit  by  banging  the  door  after 
her.  Hilary  Vance  sank  into  a  creaking  chair, 
buried  his  face  in  his  hands,  and  groaned,  "Good 
heavens,  Pollyooly,  what  have  I  done?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  politely. 
"Don't  you  want  to  marry  her?" 

"Marry  that  little  cat?  No!"  bellowed  Hilary 
Vance,  spurred  by  the  suggestion  to  his  pristine 
vigor. 

Pollyooly  reflected  carefully  for  a  minute  or  two ; 
then  she  said  with  the  air  of  a  sage:  "Then  I 
don't  think  you'd  better,  sir.  I  don't  think  she'd 
make  a  comfortable  wife." 

"Comfortable  wife!  She'd  blight  me!  She'd 
blast  every  inspiration!  That  girl  has  the  nature 
of  a  hyena!  I  know  it — I'm  sure  of  it!"  bellowed 
Hilary  Vance  with  immense  conviction. 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     135 

"Then  you  mustn't  marry  her,  sir,"  said  Polly- 
ooly. 

"But  what  am  I  to  do?"  cried  Hilary  Vance. 

Pollyooly  thought  again ;  then  she  said,  "I  should 
go  on  with  my  work,  sir.  Then  you  won't  think 
about  it." 

Hilary  Vance  raved  that  he  would  think  about 
it,  that  he  would  always  think  of  it — till  his  dying 
day,  that  his  artistic  powers  were  for  ever  destroyed, 
that  the  spring  of  imagination  was  dried  up  in  him, 
that  he  would  never  be  able  to  work  again. 

Undoubtedly  he  could  not  work  at  the  moment. 
He  tried  to  carry  out  Pollyooly's  suggestion  in  the 
hope  that  work  might  make  him  feel  better ;  but  he 
flung  down  his  pencil  and  again  betook  himself  to 
his  raving.  Pollyooly  listened  to  him  and  watched 
him  with  respectful  but  somewhat  uncomprehend- 
ing sympathy.  His  emotion  to  her  childish  mind 
seemed  extravagant:  marriage  with  Ermyntrude 
could  not  matter  as  much  as  all  that  to  any  one. 
Also  his  face  interested  her  very  much:  thanks  to 
its  size,  it  expressed  such  a  large  quantity  of  any 
emotion  he  chanced  to  be  feeling. 

At  tea,  with  the  Lump  on  his  knee,  he  was  calmer 


136  POLLYOOLY 

but  inconceivably  bitter  on  the  subject  of  the  pit- 
falls which  lie  in  the  path  of  the  artist.  Under  the 
stress  of  emotion  he  ate  enormously. 

Then  came  Mr.  James. 

At  the  sight  of  him  Hilary  Vance  sprang  to  his 
feet  and  bellowed  with  a  vast  reproach  fulness, 
"How  could  you  let  me?  You  call  yourself  my 
friend :  how  could  you  let  me  ?" 

"Have  you  repented  already?"  said  Mr.  James 
coolly,  to  all  seeming  unmoved  by  his  friend's 
heart-  and  ear-rending  tone. 

"Repented?  I  knew  nothing  about  it.  Last 
night  was  a  blank  to  me,  save  for  some  glorious 
visions.  Then  that  girl — my  model — Ermyntrude 
came  and  told  me  that  I  had  proposed  marriage  to 
her." 

Mr.  James  laughed  a  hearty,  but  unsympathetic, 
laugh,  and  said :  "You  were  extraordinarily  funny 
last  night.  I've  never  known  you  more  romantic. 
And  all  the  while  you  were  making  an  egregious 
fool  of  yourself,  you  were  more  ineffably  solemn 
than  Solomon  in  all  his  glory.  Ermyntrude's 
friends  will  be  able  to  swear  conscientiously  to  the 
entire  seriousness  of  your  proposal  of  marriage." 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     137 

"Why  didn't  you  stop  me?  You  call  yourself 
my  friend,"  bellowed  Hilary  Vance. 

"Stop  you  ?  Why,  you  were  superb !  I  wouldn't 
have  stopped  you  for  the  world.  From  the  endear- 
ments you  lavished  on  the  young  lady  I  gathered 
that  your  vocabulary  is  the  largest  an  impassioned 
lover  ever  possessed.  Stop  you?  Check  the  ideal- 
ist in  his  flights?  Never!  Besides,  you  would  fill 
yourself  up  with  that  gas.  By  jove,  it  did  stimulate 
your  imagination.  There  was  no  doubt  about 
that!" 

"Oh,  what  a  fool  I  must  have  been!"  groaned 
Hilary  Vance  with  immense  conviction.  "If  I 
marry  this  girl  my  life  is  blighted." 

"It  certainly  is.  But  you're  not  going  to  be  such 
a  fool  as  to  marry  her,"  said  Mr.  James. 

"Her  lawyer  says  I  am,"  said  Hilary  Vance  in  a 
tone  of  despair. 

"Her  lawyer?"  said  Mr.  James  in  some  surprise. 

"Yes;  she's  been  to  her  lawyer,  and  he  says  she 
has  a  tremendous  case  against  me — overwhelming. 
It's  not  only  last  night,  but  I  have  given  her  flowers, 
and  I  took  her  to  music-halls,"  moaned  Hilary 
Vance. 


138  POLLYOOLY 

Mr.  James  whistled  softly;  then  he  said,  "What 
on  earth  did  you  do  that  for?" 

"She's  a  type — wonderful  type — the  soul  of  the 
slums,"  said  Hilary  Vance,  suddenly  awaking  to  his 
natural  enthusiasm. 

"But  it  must  have  bored  you  to  extinction,"  said 
Mr.  James  with  conviction. 

"Oh,  it  did.  But  how  could  I  draw  the  people  of 
the  slums  without  knowing  their  soul.  I'm  an  artist, 
James — a  conscientious  artist,"  said  Hilary  Vance 
warmly. 

"And  now  you'll  he  a  conscientious  defendant  in 
a  breach  of  promise  case,"  said  Mr.  James. 

"Horrible!  Horrible!  Thank  Heaven  the  river 
is  at  hand !"  cried  Hilary  Vance. 

"If  you  go  on  talking  about  suicide  whenever 
you're  in  one  of  your  messes,  one  of  these  days  you'll 
forget  yourself  and  go  and  commit  it,"  said  Mr. 
James  coldly. 

"Well,  what  am  I  to  do?  What  else  is  there  but 
the  river?"  cried  Hilary  Vance,  getting  a  firm  grip 
on  his  abundant  hair. 

"Well,  either  you  must  many  Ermyntrude,  or 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     139 

square  her.  That's  as  plain  as  a  pikestaff,"  said  Mr. 
James. 

"She  shall  be  squared!"  cried  Hilary  Vance  with 
an  heroic  air.  Then  his  face  fell,  and  he  added, 
"Am  I  justified?  Suppose  the  poor  girl  really  loves. 
You  say  I  was  impassioned ;  and  when  I  am  impas- 
sioned— " 

"Oh,  get  out !"  said  Mr.  James  in  a  tone  of  some 
exasperation. 

"No,  no!  It's  no  good  saying  'Get  out !'  I  know 
what  I  am  when  I'm  impassioned — I  know  the  effect 
— the  female  heart — " 

"Oh,  drop  the  female  heart!"  said  Mr.  James. 
"Let's  keep  to  the  question  of  squaring.  I  expect  it's 
going  to  cost  you  fifty  pounds  at  least." 

Hilary  Vance's  face  fell.  "Fifty  pounds?"  he 
said  in  a  tone  of  humiliation.  "Do  you  really  think 
that  fifty  pounds — a  paltry  fifty  pounds — would 
really  compensate  her  for  the  loss  of  me?" 

"Knowing  you  as  I  do,  and  speaking  from  my 
heart,  I  can  honestly  say  that  a  paltry  fifty  shillings 
would  amply  compensate  any  woman  for  the  loss  of 
you,"  said  Mr.  James  with  intense  but  unkind  con- 


140  POLLYOOLY 

viction.  "What  I'm  wondering  is  how  the  dickens 
you'll  raise  fifty  pounds." 

"Well,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  I  have  an  uncle — a 
rich  uncle,"  said  Hilary  Vance  in  a  tone  of  hesita- 
tion. "And  he  has  said  to  me  two  or  three  times, 
'When  you  get  into  an  infernal  mess  with  a  woman, 
Hilary,  you  come  straight  to  me.  I'd  rather  pay 
than  acquire  the  niece  by  marriage  you're  likely  to 
provide.'  He  has  no  manners;  and  his  soul  is 
cramped." 

"That's  more  than  his  brain  seems  to  be,"  said 
Mr.  James  in  a  tone  of  relief.  "I  think  I  should 
like  your  uncle." 

"I  should  think  it  very  likely.  He  has  the  same 
small  head  and  small  features  that  you  have,"  said 
Hilary  Vance. 

"My  features  are  large  enough  for  all  practical 
purposes,"  said  Mr.  James  tartly.  "Well,  Ermyn- 
trude  has  got  to  be  squared ;  and  your  uncle  is  the 
man  to  provide  the  means  of  squaring  her." 

They  discussed  the  necessity  of  an  early  visit  to 
Hilary  Vance's  uncle;  and  Mr.  James  insisted  on 
accompanying  the  artist,  since  he  would  have  to  do 
the  actual  squaring.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  he  looked 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     141 

to  derive  instruction  and  entertainment  from  the  in- 
terview between  uncle  and  nephew. 

Pollyooly  had  listened  to  their  talk  with  the  live- 
liest interest ;  and  she  had  been  deeply  impressed  by 
that  part  of  it  which  dealt  with  the  squaring  of 
Ermyntrude.  To  her  child's  mind  it  conveyed  very 
clearly  the  idea  that  in  the  process  Ermyntrude 
would  lose  her  somewhat  distressing  angularity  and 
assume  the  simpler  contours  of  a  gate-post. 

For  the  next  few  days  Hilary  Vance  remained 
deeply  depressed  by  the  plight  into  which  his  in- 
dulgence in  the  anesthetic  revelation  had  brought 
him.  He  sighed  and  groaned  heavily  for  at  least  ten 
minutes  every  afternoon  before  he  became  absorbed 
in  his  work.  Pollyooly  pitied  him,  and  all  the  while 
she  wondered  what  Ermyntrude  would  look  like 
when  she  had  been  smoothed  and  compressed.  She 
wondered,  too,  whether  the  process  would  be  very 
painful.  She  was  too  well-mannered  to  ask,  for  the 
preconnubial  difficulties  of  Mr.  Hilary  Vance  were 
no  business  of  hers. 

She  was  so  much  distressed  by  the  artist's  suffer- 
ing, however,  that  after  some  thought  she  resolved 
to  consult  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  the  matter, 


142  POLLYOOLY 

for  she  had  the  highest  opinion  of  his  wisdom.  As 
he  ate  his  breakfast  one  morning,  she  told  him  the 
story  of  Ermyntrude  and  the  artist. 

Seeing  her  gravity,  he  heard  her  gravely,  and 
questioned  her  gravely ;  then  he  said :  "A  very  sad 
case,  and  one  not  unparalleled  in  my  own  personal 
experience.  Only  the  lady  in  my  case  adorned  the 
second  row  of  the  Gaiety  chorus,  claimed  to  be 
the  daughter  of  a  post-captain  on  active  service,  and, 
I  assure  you,  never  missed  an  aitch.  Moreover,  she 
did  not  squint.  In  fact  she  would  have  made  a  wife 
any  one  might  have  been  proud  of;  and  I'm  ex- 
ceedingly thankful  that  I  am  not  being  proud  of  her 
now.  But  this  Ermyntrude  is  quite  another  matter. 
James,  his  friend,  is  right:  Ermyntrude  must  be 
squared." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly.  She  hesitated,  and 
added,  "Will  they  squeeze  her  square,  sir?" 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  gasped  faintly  and 
gazed  at  her  earnestly.  Then  he  said  with  infinite 
seriousness,  "The  process  of  squaring  a  young  lady 
is  a  moral  one,  not  a  physical  one.  The  idea  is  that 
Mr.  Vance  has  hurt  the  feelings  of  Ermyntrude, 
and  they  can  only  be  soothed  by  the  payment  of 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     143 

money.  When  they  have  been  soothed,  he  and  she 
will  be  square — that  is,  quits." 

"Oh,  I  see,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly,  flushing  faintly 
to  have  made  so  foolish  a  mistake.  Then  she  added 
firmly,  "But  it  would  be  a  pity  to  pay  money  to  a 
girl  like  that." 

"It  would,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  sadly. 
"But  it  will  ha  veto  be." 

On  the  Sunday  the  sun  was  shining  very  brightly 
and  the  longing  for  open  green  spaces  came  on  the 
country  soul  of  Pollyooly.  In  Hilary  Vance's  studio 
she  had  heard  talk  of  Battersea  Park,  and  reckless 
of  extravagant  tram-fares  she  resolved  to  take  the 
Lump  to  it.  As  soon  therefore  as  she  had  finished 
her  work,  she  packed  up  some  bread  and  butter, 
filled  a  bottle  with  milk,  and  set  out. 

They  reached  the  park  in  less  than  an  hour  and 
at  once  ate  their  dinner  on  the  turf  of  the  first  lawn 
they  came  to.  Then  they  wandered  about,  resting 
when  the  need  took  them,  enjoying  the  fresh  air, 
the  sunshine,  the  flowers,  and  the  glimpses  of  the 
shining  river. 

Then,  as  they  came  out  of  a  side-path  on  to  a 
shady  lawn,  the  Lump  extended  a  short  and  very 


144  POLLYOOLY 

round  arm  and  said  in  a  tone  of  deep,  aesthetic  satis- 
faction, "Pretty !" 

To  Pollyooly's  surprise  he  was  pointing  at  the 
execrable  feathered  hat  of  Ermyntrude. 

But  whether  or  no  that  forlorn  one  had  sought 
this  approximately  sylvan  retreat  with  the  intention 
of  soothing  her  lacerated  heart  by  communion  with 
nature,  it  was  very  plain  that  she  was  not  alone  with 
her  sorrow.  On  the  bench,  by  her  side,  sat  a  loose- 
lipped,  pasty-faced  youth  in  a  bowler  hat ;  and  his 
arm  was  round  her  slender  waist. 

Pollyooly  drew  back,  unseen.  She  did  not  like  the 
airs  of  Ermyntrude,  and  she  had  no  desire  to  come 
under  her  greenish  eye.  She  was  not  well  enough 
versed  in  the  laws  which  regulate  in  England  the 
preconnubial  period,  to  be  aware  that  Ermyntrude 
was  not  behaving  in  a  fashion  appropriate  to  an  as- 
pirant to  the  large  hand  of  Hilary  Vance ;  but  she 
was  curious  to  see  a  little  more  of  the  lady  and  her 
comforter.  Therefore  she  only  withdrew  the  Lump 
to  the  covert  of  the  bushes,  sat  down,  and  took  him 
on  to  her  lap.  The  Lump  promptly  went  to  sleep. 

In  the  disquisitions  on  morality  by  which  Hannah 
Bride  had  been  training  her  grand-niece,  she  had 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     145 

never  chanced  to  touch  on  the  wrongfulness  of 
eavesdropping,  so  that  Pollyooly  was  able  to  gratify 
her  simple  curiosity  with  an  easy  mind. 

She  was  not  only  conveniently  placed  for  seeing 
Ermyntrude  but  also  for  hearing  her.  The  subject 
of  Hilary  Vance  seemed,  very  naturally,  to  fill  that 
young  lady's  mind ;  and  all  her  talk  ran  on  the  sum 
she  was  going  to  extract  from  him.  Both  she  and 
the  young  man  spoke  of  that  distinguished  artist  as 
"a  fair  ole  juggins." 

It  seemed  that  Ermyntrude  had  been  holding  out 
for  a  hundred  pounds;  but  Mr.  James,  the  plenipo- 
tentiary, had  firmly  refused  to  rise  above  fifty. 
Most  of  her  talk  was  a  recapitulation  of  the  chief 
points  in  her  conversations  with  Hilary  Vance's  un- 
wavering friend.  At  intervals  the  young  man  whose 
name,  Pollyooly  gathered,  was  Alf,  or  Half, 
Brown,  punctuated  her  talk  with  a  smacking  kiss; 
and  Ermyntrude  returned  his  kisses  with  an  an- 
swering warmth.  . 

Ignorant  of  the  law  on  the  matter  as  she  was, 
Pollyooly  felt  that  it  was  not  right  for  an  aspirant 
to  the  hand  of  Hilary  Vance  to  kiss  an  Alf  Brown; 
and  she  was  somewhat  shocked. 


146  POLLYOOLY 

The  enamored  pair  talked  and  kissed  for  half  an 
hour;  then  they  rose  to  return  to  Wandsworth. 

As  they  left  the  lawn  Alf  Brown  said  with  en- 
thusiasm, "You  touch  the  ole  juggins  for  fifty  quid, 
Hermy;  an'  I'll  marry  yew  on  Wen'sdye  fortnyte 
as  hever  is !" 

"Ryght  O !  O  Alf,  won't  it  be  a  little  bit  of  horl 
ryght  to  git  married  with  fifty  quid  to  blew!"  said 
the  fond  but  deceitful  Ennyntrude. 

"I'd  do  it  on  a  fiver,  I'm  that  fond  of  yer!"  said 
the  impassioned  Alf  Brown. 

They  departed  to  Wandsworth,  leaving  Pollyooly 
food  for  thought  indeed ;  and  all  the  afternoon  she 
pondered  the  question  whether  she  ought  to  tell  Mr. 
Hilary  Vance  what  she  had  seen.  She  felt  that 
those  kisses  were  wrong.  But  she  had  been  taught, 
very  strictly,  that  tale-bearing  was  also  wrong.  She 
could  not  therefore  see  her  duty  plain;  and  in  the 
end  she  resolved  to  leave  the  matter  open  and  act  as 
circumstances  bade  her. 

The  next  afternoon  Hilary  Vance  seemed  to  have 
recovered  his  old,  overflowing  cheerfulness ;  and  she 
said  nothing. 

At  four  o'clock  Mr.  James  came ;  and  at  once  he 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     147 

said  briskly,  "Well,  have  you  got  the  squaring 
money?" 

"Yes,"  said  Hilary  Vance;  and  he  went  to  the 
rickety  bureau  against  the  left  wall  of  the  studio 
and  took  from  an  inner  drawer  some  bank-notes. 

Mr.  James  took  them,  counted  them,  and  said 
cheerfully,  "Ten  fivers — that's  right — it  looks  so 
much  more  than  five  tenners." 

Hilary  Vance  gazed  at  him  thoughtfully;  and  a 
vast  gloom  slowly  overspread  his  large,  round  face. 

"It's  all  very  well,"  he  said  heavily.  "But  I  keep 
asking  myself  am  I  justified,  James?  I  have  raised 
hopes — high  hopes — in  a  young  girl's  heart;  and  I 
am  forcing  her — yes,  forcing  her — to  barter  them 
for  ten  paltry  five-pound  notes.  I  can  not  rid  my- 
self of  the  thought  that  I  have  made  her  love  me; 
and  now  I  am  behaving  like  a  damned  scoundrel." 

He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  such  deep  and  sorrowful 
self-reproach  that  Polly ooly  could  no  longer  keep 
silence. 

"Oh,  no,  sir,"  she  said  quickly.  "She  doesn't  love 
you;  she  loves  Alf." 

"Alf?  Who  is  Alf?"  cried  Hilary  Vance  with 
a  sudden  fierceness. 


i48  POLLYOOLY 

"His  other  name's  'Brown'.  He's  her  young 
man,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Her  young  man?  What  does  this  mean?  Has 
she  been  playing  with  me  false?"  cried  Hilary  Vance 
in  a  rising  tone  of  terrible  wrath. 

"This  is  news.  Tell  us  all  about  it,  Pollyooly," 
said  Mr.  James  quietly. 

"I  can't.  I  mustn't  tell  tales,"  said  Pollyooly  in 
some  distress. 

"You  may  really  tell  us.  It  isn't  really  telling 
tales.  It's — it's  exposing  a  fraud — a  very  different 
matter,"  said  Mr.  James  earnestly.  "Tell  us  about 
Ermyntrude's  young  man — he  really  is  her  young 
man?" 

"Oh,  yes ;  he's  going  to  marry  her  on  Wednesday 
fortnight,"  said  Pollyooly  firmly. 

"This  is  truly  interesting,"  said  Mr.  James  with 
a  joyful  smile. 

"What?  Have  I  been  distressing  myself  with  the 
most  honorable  scruples  for  nothing  at  all?  Has 
this  creature  been  playing  me  false?"  bellowed  Hi- 
lary Vance  in  his  most  terrible  voice. 

"It  does  look  as  if  there  had  been  a  misapprehen- 
sion somewhere,"  said  Mr.  James  with  a  touch  of 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     149 

mockery  in  his  tone.  "Of  course  it  can  not  pos- 
sibly be  that  your  impassioned  wooing  failed  to  stir 
the  depths  of  Ermyntrude's  being." 

"It — is — the — natural — perfidy — of — women — 
perfidy — for — perfidy's — sake !"  bellowed  Hilary 
Vance  emphasizing  each  word  by  slapping  his  right 
hand  down  on  his  left. 

"I  see.  Ermyntrude  has  flown  in  the  face  of  her 
adoration?"  said  Mr.  James  in  dispassionate  in- 
quiry. 

"Perfidy — for — perfidy's — sake !"  repeated  Hilary 
Vance  with  the  same  convincing  smacks  and  in  the 
same  convincing  bellow. 

"Well,  well,  you  ought  to  know,"  said  Mr.  James, 
placably  dismissing  the  psychological  issue.  "But 
let  us  delve  more  deeply  into  this  mine  of  informa- 
tion we  have  discovered  just  in  the  nick  of  time. 
Tell  us  all  you  know  about  the  fair  Ermyntrude 
and  her  Alf,  Pollyooly." 

Pollyooly  told  them  at  length  of  the  interview  be- 
tween the  lovers. 

Hilary  Vance  bellowed,  "Monstrous  treachery! 
Monstrous !" 

Mr.  James  said,  "Now,  I'm  in  charge  of  this  af- 


150  POLLYOOLY 

fair;  and  I'm  going  to  run  it  in  my  own  way.  If 
you  interfere  by  as  much  as  a  word,  Hilary,  I  clear 
straight  out  of  this  studio.  If  I  do,  Alf  or  no  Alf, 
you'll  be  married  to  Ermyntrude  on  Wednesday 
fortnight." 

He  spoke  in  a  tone  of  dreadful,  impressive  cer- 
tainty. 

Hilary  Vance  shivered  and  said  in  a  milder  voice, 
"All  right,  James,  all  right.  You  do  just  as  you 
like ;  you're  the  diplomatist." 

Mr.  James  asked  Pollyooly  several  questions 
about  the  conversation  between  the  lovers.  Then 
there  came  a  knocking  at  the  front  door ;  and  he  sent 
her  to  admit  Ermyntrude. 

The  deceitful  fair  one  entered  with  her  best  for- 
lorn air,  her  handkerchief  in  her  hand,  ready  for 
instant  use. 

"Well,  Ermyntrude?"  said  Mr.  James  in  a  tone 
of  polite  inquiry. 

"I've  come  for  'is  answer — 'is  definite  answer," 
said  Ermyntrude  in  a  very  somber  tone,  nodding 
toward  Hilary  Vance. 

"Oh,  we  thought  you  might  have  made  other  ar- 
rangements," said  Mr.  James, 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     151 

"Wot  other  arryngements  ?  I  ain't  made  no  other 
arryngements,"  said  Ermyntrude  sharply.  "Is  'e 
goin'  ter  marry  me,  or  isn't  he?  That's  wot  I've 
come  to  'ear." 

Hilary  Vance  gasped  enormously  and  began,  "I 
wouldn't—" 

"You  shut  up!"  snapped  Mr.  James,  cutting  him 
short;  and  he  turned  to  Ermyntrude  and  added 
suavely,  "Mr.  Vance  is  not  going  to  marry  you." 

"Wot  about  my  'eart?"  said  Ermyntrude  in  a 
moaning  voice;  and  she  pressed  her  handkerchief 
to  her  quite  dry  eyes. 

"It's  his  art  that  has  to  be  considered,"  said  Mr. 
James.  "He  has  decided  that  marriage  would  not 
foster  it.  It  is  a  celibate  art.  Therefore  he  can  not 
marry  you." 

"But  'e's  got  to  marry  me!  'E  promised  to;  an' 
'e  shall !  'E's  not  goin'  to  plye  fast  an'  loose  wiv  me! 
The  lor  is  the  lor!"  cried  Ermyntrude  fiercely, 
abandoning  utterly  the  suppliant  pose. 

"That's  where  you're  wrong,  I  fear.  The  law  is 
whatever  we  choose  to  pay  for  it.  But  anyhow  the 
law  doesn't  allow  you  to  commit  bigamy,"  said  Mr. 
James. 


152  POLLYOOLY 

"Bigamy!  'Oo  are  you  gittin'  at?"  cried  Ermyn- 
trude  with  a  sudden  note  of  panic  in  her  voice. 

"You  have  arranged  to  marry  Alfred  Brown  on 
Wednesday  fortnight;  and  now  you  come  asking 
Mr.  Vance  to  marry  you.  It  can't  be  done,"  said 
Mr.  James. 

With  paling  face,  Ermyntrude  burst  into  a  storm 
of  violent  but  untruthful  denial. 

Mr.  James  let  it  pass ;  then  he  said,  "The  game's 
up,  Ermyntrude.  The  law  doesn't  allow  you  to  kiss 
one  gentleman  in  Battersea  Park  and  pester  an- 
other to  marry  you." 

Ermyntrude  protested  with  even  greater  violence 
that  she  had  never  considered  Hilary  Vance  a  gen- 
tleman. 

"That  is  purely  a  matter  of  opinion,"  said  Mr. 
James  in  a  dispassionate  tone. 

Ermyntrude  denied  this;  then  she  suddenly  as- 
sumed an  air  of  steely  dignity  and  said,  "Give  me 
my  compensytion.  Give  me  that  fifty  pounds  you 
hoffered." 

"No,  Ermyntrude.  You  have  lost  all  claim  upon 
Mr.  Vance  by  your  attempt  to  commit  bigamy. 
Your  lawyer  will  tell  you  so,"  said  Mr.  James. 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     153 

Ermyntrtide  burst  into  a  storm  of  threats;  but 
they  rang  but  half-hearted.  The  note  of  panic  in 
her  tone  was  deeper.  She  declared  again  and  again 
that  she  would  have  the  lor  on  Hilary  Vance ;  then 
she  burst  into  tears,  genuine  tears,  at  the  vanishing 
of  her  glorious  dream. 

"I  oughter  'ave  compensytion,  I  ought.  Look  'ow 
I've  bin  treated — myde  a  fool  of — by  the  likes  of 
'im,"  she  wailed. 

"That's  another  matter,"  said  Mr.  James  in  a  ju- 
dicial tone.  "You  have  forfeited  any  right  to  any 
compensation  at  all  by  the  double-faced  game  you've 
been  playing.  But  Mr.  Vance  did  play  the  fool  and 
he  ought  to  pay  for  it.  Therefore  he  will  give  you 
ten  pounds  toward  your  trousseau." 

The  words  seemed  words  of  solace,  for  the  vio- 
lence of  Ermyntrude's  grief  began  to  abate,  the 
color  to  flow  back  into  her  cheeks. 

"It's  not  what  I  oughter  have,  but  it's  better  than 
nothink,"  she  said  in  a  much  less  mournful  voice. 

Mr.  James  handed  her  two  five-pound  notes. 

Ermyntrude  took  them  with  a  haste  that  was  very 
near  a  snatch,  and  moved  with  some  speed  toward 
the  door.  She  turned  the  handle  quickly,  sniffed, 


154  POLLYOOLY 

said  "Thenks"  in  a  somewhat  humble  tone,  and  van- 
ished. 

Hilary  Vance  raised  his  large  right  hand  toward 
the  ceiling,  and  began  in  a  solemn  tone,  "To  think 
that  such  a  creature — so  unscrupulous — so  lost  to 
all  sense — " 

"So  unappreciative  of  manly  charm,"  interrupted 
Mr.  James.  "Don't  talk  rot,  Hilary.  If  you'd  seen 
as  little  money  in  your  life  as  Ermyntrude  has  in 
hers,  you  wouldn't  stick  at  a  little  game  like  that 
to  make  fifty  pounds." 

Hilary  Vance  lowered  his  hand :  "Perhaps  you're 
right,  James,"  he  said. 

"Of  course  I'm  right,"  said  Mr.  James.  "But 
there's  one  good  thing,  and  that  is  that  Ermyntrude 
and  her  Alf  are  beginning  their  married  life  on  ten 
pounds  and  not  fifty — fifty  would  have  been  ruina- 
tion." 

A  sudden  air  of  ample  beatitude  spread  over  Hil- 
ary Vance's  large  face,  and  he  bellowed  "The  cloud 
is  lifted!  I'm  free!  I'm  free!" 

Then  with  a  terrific  whoop  he  sprang  into  the 
air.  Then  he  danced.  It  was  not  light;  it  was  not 
graceful ;  it  was  not  elegant.  It  was  elephantine  and 


THE  SQUARING  OF  ERMYNTRUDE     155 

tremendous;  and  he  accomplished  it  with  a  succes- 
sion of  ear-splitting  yells  which  would  have  done 
credit  to  a  locomotive. 

When  at  last  exhaustion  suddenly  fell  on  him,  he 
stopped,  and  said  in  a  breathless  voice,  "I  must  give 
Pollyooly  ten  pounds,  too." 

"Certainly  not,"  said  Mr.  James.  "The  posses- 
sion of  so  much  red  gold  would  inevitably  drive  a 
child  of  her  tender  years  to  a  course  of  luxurious 
chocolate  dissipation,  and  for  ever  destroy  her  di- 
gestion." 

"But  she  has  saved  me !"  cried  Mr.  Hilary  Vance. 

"Well,  buy  her  ten  pounds'  worth  of  clothes — her 
and  that  extraordinarily  clean  little  brother  of  hers. 
How  would  you  like  that,  Pollyooly?"  said  Mr. 
James. 

"Oh,  sir,  it  would  be  splendid!"  said  Pollyooly; 
and  her  eyes  shone  like  stars  in  the  tropics. 

"Right !  I  will  choose  them  for  her  myself !  She 
shall  be  dressed  like  a  dream!"  cried  Mr.  Hilary 
Vance. 

"A  ten-pound  dream,"  said  Mr.  James.  "Let's 
have  tea." 


CHAPTER  V 

LOVE'S  MESSENGER 

BOTH  Hilary  Vance  and  Mr.  James  were  quite 
alive  to  the  difficulty  of  the  task  of  adorning 
angel  children  with  fitting  raiment.  For  five  days 
Mr.  James  came  every  afternoon  to  tea;  and  they 
discussed  gravely  the  forms,  colors,  and  shades  of 
color  of  the  frocks  and  tunics  which  should  most 
nobly  set  out  the  beauty  of  Pollyooly  and  the  Lump. 

For  ever  the  keener  taste  of  Mr.  James  curbed 
Hilary  Vance's  tendency  to  the  flamboyant :  it  was 
his  strong  desire  to  robe  Pollyooly  in  stiff  cloth  of 
gold.  But  Mr.  James  urged  firmly  that  Pollyooly 
was  a  human  being  and  not  a  figure  in  a  piece  of 
tapestry,  that  no  human  being  who  was  not  an  utter 
fool  would  dream  of  robing  himself,  or  herself,  in 
cloth  of  gold,  save,  of  course,  for  the  purpose  of  im- 
pressing utter  fools. 

But  little  by  little  their  discussions  clarified  their 

156 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  157 

ideas  on  the  matter;  and  they  came  to  Liberty's  on 
the  appointed  afternoon  with  their  minds  clear 
about  the  colors  and  the  tints  which  would  give  full 
value  to  Pollyooly's  frail  and  delicate  beauty. 

Thus  it  came  about  that  once  in  the  shop  they 
were  quick  finding  what  they  wanted.  Pollyooly 
became  the  possessor  of  a  frock  of  a  golden  silk, 
a  frock  of  a  greenish-blue  silk,  with  silk  stockings 
to  match  them,  two  print  frocks  of  grayish  blue, 
and  a  hat  which  she  could  fittingly  wear  with  either 
of  the  silk  frocks.  The  Lump  had  a  tunic  of  golden 
silk,  and  one  of  blue  silk,  to  match  the  frocks  of 
Pollyooly,  two  tunics  of  linen,  and  a  golden  cap. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  was  informed  by  the 
joyous  Pollyooly  of  the  great  equipment,  and  pro- 
fessed himself  eager  indeed  to  see  her  in  her  finery. 

He  said  sententiously,  by  way  of  an  afterthought, 
"Woman  survives  by  her  vanity.  It  is  good  that 
yours  should  not  be  allowed  to  become  atrophied  by 
lack  of  its  proper  sustenance." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  polite  assent. 

While  the  frocks  were  being  made,  on  the  very- 
day  before  they  were  to  be  finished  and  sent  to  her, 
fell  the  Lump's  third  birthday.  To  Pollyooly  it  was 


158  POLLYOOLY 

the  most  important  day  in  their  year,  far  more  im- 
portant than  her  own  birthday.  She  felt  that  the 
anniversary  must  be  duly  celebrated,  and  that  the 
fact  that  she  was  not  herself  spending  money  on 
her  clothes  put  the  due  celebration  of  it  within  her 
power  and  means.  She  braced  herself  to  the  heroic 
height  of  resolving  to  spend  half-a-crown  on  it,  if 
need  were. 

The  Lump  therefore  was  rejoiced  to  find  await- 
ing him  on  the  breakfast  table  a  woolly  lamb,  pur- 
chased at  Carnage's  for  tenpence  halfpenny.  After 
breakfast  Pollyooly  made  haste  with  her  work;  and 
it  was  finished  by  dinner-time.  After  dinner  she  led 
and  carried  him  up  Chancery  Lane;  and  from  the 
top  of  it  they  took  a  'bus  to  the  Marble  Arch.  To 
her  country  mind  trees  and  green  turf  were  neces- 
sary to  festivals. 

At  the  Marble  Arch  they  disembarked,  gained  the 
park,  and  walked  decorously  down  Rotten  Row; 
and  it  would  be  hard  to  say  whether  their  faces  or 
their  attire  were  the  more  out  of  place  in  that  haunt 
of  fashion.  An  angel  child,  in  an  oft-washed  blue 
print  frock,  accompanied  by  an  authentic,  but  red- 
headed cherub  seemed  indeed  ill-placed  in  it;  and 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  159 

though  persons  of  breeding  smiled  with  pleasure 
when  their  eyes  rested  on  the  two  charming  faces, 
the  snobs  elevated  their  frequently-penciled  eye- 
brows at  their  shabby  dress,  and  some  of  them 
inquired  of  their  friends  what  the  police  were  think- 
ing of.  Probably,  if  the  painful  truth  were  known, 
they  were  thinking  with  longing  of  the  cooks  in  the 
rich  kitchens  of  Park  Lane. 

Certainly,  no  sense  of  the  unfitness  of  her  frock 
marred  Pollyooly's  pleasure;  and  she  watched  the 
sparkling  scene  with  the  dazzled  eyes  of  a  country 
child.  The  Lump  appeared  less  dazzled  than  she  by 
the  splendor  through  which  he  moved,  but  quite 
content. 

She  strolled  and  he  toddled  half-way  down  to 
Hyde  Park  Corner;  then,  thinking  that  he  had 
walked  far  enough,  she  led  him  to  a  tree  close  to  the 
park ;  and  they  sat  down,  inexpensively,  on  the  grass 
at  its  foot. 

The  Lump  abandoned  himself  to  the  full  enjoy- 
ment of  his  new  and  woolly  treasure;  Pollyooly 
abandoned  herself  to  the  full  enjoyment  of  the 
sparkling  scene.  Presently  her  eyes  fell  on  a  pretty 
girl,  with  eyes  of  nearly  as  deep  a  blue  as  her  own, 


160  POLLYOOLY 

who  was  sitting  a  few  yards  away.  She  was  charm- 
ingly dressed  in  a  confection  of  light  blue,  and  be- 
side her  sat  her  sour- faced  mother,  dressed  in  a 
much  more  elaborate  confection  of  the  same  tint. 

Pollyooly  gazed  at  the  pretty  girl  with  some  pleas- 
ure and  more  envy  for  a  minute  or  two,  thinking 
that  it  must  be  glorious,  indeed,  to  have  nothing  to 
do  all  day  but  wear  such  beautiful  clothes.  Idleness 
appealed  to  her  very  strongly,  though  no  one  could 
have  suggested  that  she  did  not  do  the  work  of  the 
two  sets  of  chambers  in  the  King's  Bench  Walk  in 
a  thoroughly  creditable  fashion.  But  she  often  felt, 
as  children  will,  that  a  whole  day's  holiday  would  be 
very  pleasant  indeed.  It  also  seemed  for  her  for 
ever  impossible. 

Then  the  pretty  girl's  eyes,  drawn  by  the  attrac- 
tion of  Pollyooly's  intent  gaze,  fell  on  her;  and  she 
smiled. 

Pollyooly  flushed  a  little ;  she  feared  that  she  had 
been  caught  in  the  act  of  staring,  and,  like  the  well- 
mannered  child  she  was,  it  made  her  uncomfortable. 
The  pretty  girl's  eyes  wandered  from  Pollyooly  to 
the  Lump,  and  she  smiled  again.  Pollyooly  flushed 
again ;  this  time  with  pride.  The  pretty  girl's  eyes 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  161 

wandered  to  a  point  above  Pollyooly's  head;  she 
looked  startled,  glanced  at  her  sour-faced  mother, 
looked  back,  and  again  smiled. 

Then  a  voice  above  Pollyooly's  head  said  quietly : 
"Little  girl,  do  you  think  you  could  do  something 
forme?" 

Pollyooly,  startled  in  her  turn,  looked  up  to  find  a 
very  fine-looking  gentleman,  as  finely  dressed  as  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  himself,  looking  down  at 
her,  and  hidden  by  the  trunk  of  the  tree  from  the 
sour- faced  dowager. 

Pollyooly  liked  his  face.  It  was  an  honest  face, 
good-natured,  and  very  like  that  of  the  Apollo  Bel- 
vedere. She  did  not  think,  indeed,  that  it  could 
compare  with  the  face  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruf- 
fin, who,  to  her  eyes,  was  the  very  type  of  manly 
beauty;  and  since  her  ideal  was  the  clean-shaven, 
she  did  not  approve  of  the  close-cropped  mustache. 
But  she  found  it  a  nice  face,  the  face  of  one  to  be 
trusted. 

"If  I  can,  sir,"  she  said  amiably. 

"Well,  do  you  think  that  you  could  give  that 
young  lady  in  blue,  sitting  just  over  there,  a  note 
without  any  one  seeing  you  ?"  said  the  gentleman. 


162  POLLYOOLY 

"I'll  try,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  briskly,  her  face 
lighting  up  at  the  prospect  of  action. 

"I'll  give  you  half-a-crown  if  you  can  work  it," 
said  the  gentleman;  and  Pollyooly's  face  grew  still 
brighter  at  the  prospect  of  this  munificent  reward. 

The  gentleman  took  a  slim  betting-book  from  his 
pocket,  wrote  in  it,  apparently  with  some  labor,  and 
tore  the  leaf  out  of  it. 

Then  he  said,  "Here  it  is.  How  are  you  going  to 
work  it?" 

Pollyooly  gazed  at  him  with  puckered  brow.  The 
life  of  Alsatia  and  the  struggle  to  preserve  the  Lump 
from  the  workhouse  had  indeed  sharpened  her  wits ; 
but  no  risks  must  be  taken  in  the  matter  of  earning 
half-a-crown. 

Then  her  face  brightened  again  and  she  said : 
"Do  you  want  those  violets  veiy  much,  sir?  If  you 
don't,  I  would  stick  the  note  in  the  middle  of  them, 
and  nobody  could  see  it." 

"Rippin'  idea!  That's  just  where  I  wanted  the 
violets  to  go  when  I  bought  them  on  the  chance. 
She  likes  violets  better  than  any  flowers,"  said  the 
gentleman  in  a  tone  of  warm  enthusiasm. 

With  that  he  took  them  out  of  his  buttonhole  and 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  163 

gave  them  to  her.  Then  he  looked  cautiously  round 
the  tree-trunk.  The  pretty  girl  was  watching  them 
covertly.  He  held  out  the  note  for  her  to  see,  and 
pointed  to  Pollyooly.  Pollyooly  untied  the  violets 
with  deft  fingers,  set  the  note  in  the  middle  of  them, 
and  tied  them  up  again.  The  pretty  girl  watched 
her  with  sparkling  eyes. 

Then  Pollyooly  looked  at  the  pretty  girl  thought- 
fully, and  said,  "I  may  as  well  do  it  now,  sir." 

"Right  you  are.  She's  tumbled  to  what  you're  up 
to  all  right,"  said  the  gentleman  eagerly.  "When 
you've  given  them  to  her  walk  straight  on ;  and  I'll 
catch  you  up." 

Pollyooly  rose,  took  the  Lump  by  the  hand,  and 
sauntered  toward  the  pretty  girt.  Two  yards  from 
her,  she  said  to  the  Lump:  "Give  these  flowers  to 
the  pretty  lady,  Lump,  dear."  And  she  gave  him  the 
violets. 

The  Lump  toddled  up  to  the  chairs  with  n  very 
grave  and  earnest  face,  and  offered  the  violets  to 
the  sour- faced  dowager.  It  was  not  only  that  he 
was  of  too  tender  years  to  be  a  trustworthy  judge 
of  female  beauty,  but  the  dowager  was  by  far  the 
more  resplendent  creature  of  the  two.  Even  her 


1 64  POLLYOOLY 

cheeks  flamed  with  more  brilliant,  though  less  nat- 
ural, roses  than  did  the  cheeks  of  her  daughter;  and 
on  a  fine  day  her  hat  would  have  caught  the  eye 
nearly  a  thousand  yards  away. 

The  sour-faced  dowager  sniffed  in  a  manner  we 
are  little  used  to  associate  with  our  aristocracy,  and 
eyed  the  gift  with  cold  scorn.  The  pretty  girl  bent 
hastily  forward  and  took  them. 

"Thank  you,  you  dear  little  boy,"  she  said. 

"Grizel!  What  a  thing  to  do!"  cried  her  mother. 
"Taking  flowers  from  a  red-headed  little  beggar! 
They're  infectious!  I'm  sure  of  it!  Throw  them 
away  at  once !" 

"He's  quite  a  clean  little  boy,  and  the  violets  are 
quite  fresh,"  said  the  pretty  girl  very  firmly;  and 
she  put  the  shilling  she  had  ready  into  the  Lump's 
fat  little  hand. 

"A  shilling !"  cried  her  mother.  "A  shilling  for  a 
twopenny  bunch  of  violets!  If  that's  the  way  you 
waste  your  allowance,  no  wonder  you're  always  hard 
up  at  the  end  of  the  month !  Besides,  it's  encourag- 
ing begging — barefaced  begging !" 

"Oh,  I'm  sure  they  aren't  beggars!  Look  how 
clean  they  are,"  said  the  pretty  girl. 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  165 

"Say  'Thank  you,'  Lump,  dear,"  said  Pollyooly 
quickly. 

The  Lump  said  "Tank  'oo,"  and  she  drew  him 
hastily  away.  She  was  afraid  lest  the  sour-faced 
lady  should  violently  recover  the  shilling. 

She  walked  quickly,  and  a  hundred  yards  farther 
on  (well  out  of  sight  of  the  sour-faced  one)  the 
gentleman  caught  them  up. 

"By  Jove,  the  way  you  worked  it  was  positively 
a  marvel !"  he  cried  in  tones  of  high  delight.  "I  tell 
you  what:  where  do  you  live?  You  might  do  an- 
other job  or  two  like  this  for  me.  I  want  them  do- 
ing badly." 

"I'm  Mr.  Ruffin's  housekeeper;  and  I  live  with 
him  at  Seventy-five,  The  King's  Bench  Walk  in  the 
Temple,"  said  Pollyooly  with  the  proper  pride  in  her 
good  address. 

He  pulled  out  his  betting  book  and  wrote  down 
the  address. 

"I  wonder  if  your  Mr.  Ruffin  is  the  Honorable 
John?"  he  said  thoughtfully.  "He  does  live  in  the 
Temple." 

"All  his  tradesmen  call  him  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  till  they  lose  their  tempers;  and  there's  only 


1 66  POLLYOOLY 

a  cat  between  him  and  a  peerage — he  says  there  is," 
said  Pollyooly. 

"A  cat  ?  A  cat  between  him  and  a  peerage  ?"  said 
the  gentleman  mystified. 

"Because  a  cat  has  nine  lives — he  says  it  has," 
said  Pollyooly. 

"That's  the  Honorable  John,  all  right,"  said  the 
gentleman  in  a  tone  of  certainty.  "By  Jove!  It's 
rippin'  your  being  his  housekeeper.  I  shall  be  able 
to  get  you  whenever  I  want  you.  Tell  him  I'm  go- 
ing to  borrow  you — often." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly.  "Who  shall  I  tell 
him?" 

"I'm  Basil  Croome — Captain  Croome;  and  my 
present  address  is  Knightsbridge  Barracks.  That's 
where  I  shall  want  you  to  come  when  I've  got  a  job 
for  you.  Do  you  think  you'll  be  able  to  find  it  ?" 

"Oh,  yes;  I  can  always  find  my  way  anywhere — 
policemen  tell  me,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"No:  I'll  come  and  fetch  you,  if  I  can  get  away. 
No  good  taking  chances,"  said  Captain  Croome. 

He  pulled  a  handful  of  money  out  of  his  pocket, 
took  half-a-crown  from  it,  and  gave  it  to  her.  He 
thanked  her  warmly  for  delivering  the  note,  shook 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  167 

hands  with  her,  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked 
quickly  up  the  Row,  doubtless  to  feast  his  eyes  once 
more  on  his  lady-love. 

Pollyooly  continued  her  course  down  the  Row  in 
a  very  contented  frame  of  mind :  to  go  out  braced 
to  the  extravagance  of  spending,  if  need  were,  half- 
a-crown,  and  to  earn  three  and  sixpence  was  indeed 
splendid.  They  wandered  for  an  hour  along  the 
banks  of  the  Serpentine;  they  sat  on  its  bank  for 
another  hour.  Then  the  Lump  said  firmly  that  he 
was  hungry. 

She  carried  him  out  of  the  park;  and  they  went 
by  'bus  to  Piccadilly.  Then  came  the  action  of  the 
day  that  needed  true  courage.  She  was  resolved  that 
the  Lump  should  have  a  splendid  birthday  tea ;  and 
she  was  doubtful  of  the  reception  their  clothes 
would  procure  them  in  a  tea-shop.  None  the  less  she 
entered  "The  Retreat"  with  a  very  firm  air. 

The  waitresses  looked  somewhat  askance  at  her, 
but  doubtless  that  firm  air  cowed  them.  On  the 
other  hand  it  may  have  been  that  the  waitresses  had 
not  the  heart  to  refuse  sustenance  to  angel  children. 
At  any  rate  they  sat  down  at  a  table  in  a  corner  and 
made  their  tea  off  a  dream  of  chocolate  eclairs  and 


1 68  POLLYOOLY 

cocoa.  After  it,  in  a  great  peace,  they  took  their 
way  slowly  to  Trafalgar  Square  to  see  the  foun- 
tains playing.  There  they  stayed  till  the  Lump  grew 
sleepy,  then  took  a  'bus  to  the  Temple  and  bed. 

The  next  morning  after  bringing  in  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin's  bacon  Pollyooly  did  not  at  once  pro- 
ceed to  the  gathering  up  of  his  strewn  garments.  She 
looked  at  him  with  eager  eyes  and  said : 

"Please,  sir,  I  met  a  gentleman  who  knows  you  in 
the  park  yesterday;  and  he  told  me  to  tell  you  he 
was  going  to  borrow  me.  He  gave  me  a  whole  half- 
crown  for  giving  a  lady  a  letter  in  a  bunch  of  violets 
— at  least,  the  Lump  did.  And  she  gave  him  a  shill- 
ing. His  name  is  Captain  Croome,  and  he  lives  in 
Knightsbridge  Barracks.  He  wants  me  to  do  it 
again." 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  set  down  his  knife 
and  fork  with  a  faint  gasp,  and  gazed  at  her  with 
bewildered  eyes. 

"My  dear  Mrs.  Bride,"  he  said  faintly,  "I  am 
aware  that  the  art  of  boiling  down  romances  for 
popular  consumption  is  highly  esteemed  and  lucra- 
tive. But  I'm  not  popular;  and  I  do  not  suffer  from 
consumption.  Do  you  think  you  could  narrate  this 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  169 

romance  in  its  unabridged  form  ?  Could  you  tell  me 
all  about  it?" 

Pollyooly  assumed  the  grave  air  of  the  narrator 
and  told  him  of  the  Lump's  birthday  treat,  of  the  re- 
quest of  the  strange  gentleman,  and  of  the  Lump's 
delivery  of  the  note  in  the  bunch  of  violets.  She 
dwelt  at  length  on  the  pretty  way  in  which  the  Lump 
had  handed  the  violets  to  the  wrong  lady.  Then  she 
explained  that  Captain  Croome  wished  to  borrow  her 
to  perform  other  jobs  for  him  of  a  like  nature  and 
probably  to  be  paid  for  with  a  like  munificence. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  listened  to  her  with 
smiling  attention,  and  at  the  end  he  said : 

"Yet  another  unsuspected  talent.  You  are  full  of 
surprises,  Mrs.  Bride ;  full  of  them.  But,  after  all, 
it  is  only  natural  that  a  person  of  your  genius  for 
grilling  bacon,  should  have  all  the  accomplishments. 
You  are  versatile,  indeed." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  politely,  but  with  a  very 
dim  understanding  of  his  meaning,  though  she  gath- 
ered that  he  was  complimenting  her. 

"But  if  the  lady's  mother  addressed  her  as  'Gri- 
zel,'  she  must  be  Lady  Grizel  Harland ;  and  Croome 
will  borrow  you  in  vain,"  he  went  on  thoughtfully. 


1 70  POLLYOOLY 

"The  Tullislaiths  have  more  ambitious  views  for 
their  daughter,  and  Croome's  beggarly  five  thou- 
sand a  year  will  not  soften  their  hearts." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  uncomprehending  Pollyooly 
politely. 

"But  if  you  like  to  try  to  smooth  the  path  of  a 
hopeless  true  love,  there  is  nothing  against  it.  So 
if  Captain  Croome  calls  on  you  to  help  him,  you  can 
do  it  with  a  clear  conscience,  since  his  lady-love's 
mamma  will  see  to  it  that  nothing  whatever  comes  of 
it,  and  your  conscience  will  never  be  able  to  reproach 
you  for  having  aided  two  fellow-creatures  to  marry 
in  haste  and  repent  at  leisure." 

"No,  sir.  Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with 
a  beaming  smile,  for  she  gathered  that  she  had  his 
leave  to  earn  more  half-crowns  as  the  messenger  of 
love. 

That  afternoon  the,  frocks  and  tunics  came  from 
Liberty's;  and  Pollyooly  spent  an  hour  of  rapture 
putting  them  on  and  enjoying  the  fine  appearance 
she  and  the  Lump  presented.  The  next  morning  she 
put  on  the  golden  frock  for  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  to  admire;  and  he  protested  that  she  sur- 
passed all  his  dreams  of  the  angels. 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  171 

All  that  day  and  the  next  she  looked  with  eager 
impatience  for  Captain  Croome  to  come  to  bor- 
row her.  She  took  the  Lump  for  his  airings  only 
in  the  King's  Bench  Walk  lest  he  should  come  and 
find  her  out.  But  it  was  not  till  ten  o'clock  on  the 
third  day  that  he  appeared. 

Polly ooly,  her  hope  of  half-crowns  burning 
brightly,  ushered  him  into  the  sitting-room,  where 
he  found  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  his  wig  and 
gown,  on  the  point  of  starting  for  the  Law  Courts; 
and  the  sight  of  that  comforting  attire  assured  him 
that  he  had  come  to  the  very  man  to  advise  him. 

"How  are  you,  Ruffin  ?"  he  said  warmly.  "Seein' 
that  little  housekeeper  of  yours  the  other  day  in  the 
park  put  it  into  my  head  that  you  might  be  able  to 
give  me  a  tip  about  a  difficult  job  I'm  tryin'  to  pull 
off." 

"Advice  is  the  one  thing  I  have  in  unlimited  quan- 
tities: so  I  never  stint  my  friends  of  it,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  amiably. 

"Right,"  said  Captain  Croome  hopefully.  "It's 
about  a  lady." 

"Stop!"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  sharply. 
"In  that  case  the  proper  course  would  be  to  consult 


172  POLLYOOLY 

me  through  a  solicitor.  But  I'd  rather  you  didn't 
As  much  as  I  can  I  avoid  divorce  court  practice ;  the 
divorce  court  is  always  so  full  of  our  friends.  But 
I  will  just  say  one  thing:  don't  let  the  affair  come 
into  court  at  all — not  on  any  account." 

"No,  no!  You've  got  it  wrong — quite  wrong," 
protested  Captain  Croome  hastily.  "It  isn't  a  di- 
vorce court  business  at  all.  In  fact,  it's  just  the 
other  way  about.  I  want  to  get  married.  I  want 
to  marry  Lady  Grizel  Harland,  and  the  Tullislaiths 
won't  hear  of  it." 

"Yes ;  I  gathered  from  Mrs.  Bride's  lucid  account 
of  her  adventure  that  it  was  Lady  Grizel  Harland," 
said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

"Who's  Mrs.  Bride?"  said  Captain  Croome 
quickly. 

"She's  my  housekeeper — the  little  girl  who  de- 
vised the  violet  process.  She  is  called  Mrs.  Bride 
because  she  is  my  housekeeper.  Housekeepers  are  al- 
ways 'Mrs.'  But  what  you've  got  to  do  is  to  wear 
them  down,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  with 
decision. 

"I've  been  wearing  them  down  for  months,  don't 
you  know;  but  it  doesn't  seem  to  come  off,"  said 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  173 

Captain  Croome  ruefully.  "And  if  it  doesn't  come 
off  soon,  it  won't  come  off  at  all.  The  old  cat  has 
caught  the  Otter  for  Grizel,  and  the  marriage  is 
nearly  fixed  up." 

Sir  Otto  Leiter,  an  English  baronet  (by  right  of 
purchase)  of  the  old  Hamburg  strain,  was  known 
to  his  acquaintances  as  the  Otter  on  account  of  his 
remarkable  sleekness. 

"Yes;  I  was  told  that  it  was  arranged,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  RufBn. 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  stop  it!"  cried  Captain 
Croome  with  some  heat. 

"I  don't  think  you  will.  Lady  Tullislaith  is  a 
tough  old  cat — you  don't  mind  my  calling  the 
mother-in-law  of  your  dreams  a  tough  old  cat?" 
said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

"Not  I — she  always  calls  you  the  most  danger- 
ous detrimental  in  London,"  answered  Captain 
Croome. 

"I  have  pointed  out  to  several  poor  young  things 
the  horrors  of  a  loveless  marriage,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  in  a  tone  of  satisfaction.  "Well, 
Lady  Tullislaith  is  a  tough  old  cat,  and  the  marquis 
is  a  hopeless  stick.  Your  only  chance  is  to  persuade 


174  POLLYOOLY 

Lady  Grizel  to  chuck  the  Otter  and  make  a  bolt 
of  it." 

"But  that's  just  it.  I  can't  get  a  chance  of  per- 
suading her  to  do  anything,  because  I  can't  get  near 
her,"  said  Captain  Croome  dolefully.  "As  soon  as 
the  Otter  appeared  on  the  scene  Lady  Ttillislaith 
told  me  she  didn't  want  me  at  her  house.  And  now 
that  she's  nailed  him,  she  doesn't  let  Grizel  out  of 
her  sight.  She  never  lets  her  go  to  a  dance  where 
we  could  talk — only  to  dinners  where  she  won't  meet 
me,  and  to  theaters  with  the  Otter.  Grizel  never 
stirs  out  of  the  house  without  her  mother  or  a  per- 
fect beast  of  a  maid  to  keep  me  off.  How  can  I 
persuade  her  ?"  said  Captain  Croome  yet  more  dole- 
fully. 

"There  is  the  penny  post,  which  was  invented  by 
Sir  Rowland  Hill  to  meet  emergencies  of  this  very 
kind.  Wherever  were  you  at  school  not  to  learn 
that?  Use  it,  man — use  it,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  in  spirited  tones. 

"But  I  can't  use  it!"  cried  Captain  Croome  in  a 
tone  of  bitter  exasperation.  "The  old  cat  opens  all 
Grizel's  letters  and  sends  mine  back  to  me  with  nasty 
remarks  about  my  persecuting  a  young  girl  with  tin- 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  175 

welcome  attentions.  And  they  aren't  unwelcome — I 
know  they  aren't." 

"Well,  if  you're  sure  of  that,  you've  only  got  to 
be  patient.  Lady  Grizel  has  much  too  much  char- 
acter to  marry  the  Otter,  if  she  really  cares  for 
you." 

"Oh,  come,  Ruffin,  you  know  that  it  isn't  safe. 
You  know  that  girls  are  always  being  worried  and 
badgered  and  bullied  into  marrying  these  rich  boun- 
ders they  hate.  That's  one  of  the  things  that  keeps 
the  divorce  court  so  full,"  said  Captain  Croome  un- 
happily. 

"Yes;  there  is  that  danger,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  thoughtfully.  "And,  after  all,  things 
do  look  bad;  they're  not  quite  twentieth  century; 
there's  a  mediaeval  breadth  about  Lady  Tullislaith's 
methods;  and  I  don't  think  there's  much  she'd  stick 
at.  I  do  loathe  the  old  cat." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Captain  Croome  heartily.  "What 
am  I  to  do?" 

"Well,  when  you  meet  the  Middle  Ages  the  only 
thing  to  do  is  to  be  mediaeval.  But  you  can't  carry 
off  a  girl  by  force  nowadays — at  least  it's  difficult,  if 
she's  been  well  brought  up  and  active  with  golf  and 


176  POLLYOOLY 

tennis.  She  can  appeal  to  the  police,  too.  There 
were  no  police,  to  speak  of,  to  appeal  to  in  the  day 
of  romance,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  a 
tone  of  regret. 

"I  wish  I  could  carry  her  off,"  said  Captain 
Croome. 

"Still,  you  might  surreptitiously  persuade  her  to 
run  away  with  you.  Get  a  special  license,  and  any 
parson  can  marry  you  anywhere.  There's  a  very 
good  church  over  the  way.  Why  not  use  it?  No 
one  would  look  for  you  there — if  the  Tullislaiths 
pursue.  The  thing  is  to  persuade  and  be  ready," 
said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

"Good  man!  I'll  do  it,"  cried  Captain  Croome. 
Then  his  face  fell ;  and  he  added :  "But  I  say,  isn't 
there  something  about  being  of  age  when  you  get 
married?  Grizel  is  only  nineteen  and  a  half." 

"Then  on  the  old  Jesuit  principle  that  the  end  jus- 
tified the  means,  you  will  have  to  raise  her  age  in 
getting  that  license  to  twenty-one  and  a  half.  Of 
course,  this  renders  you  liable  to  prosecution  for 
false  entry.  But  no  true  lover  would  let  prison 
stand  between  him  and  wedlock,"  said  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  enthusiastically. 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  177 

"If  it  was  for  Grizel,  I'd  stick  it  out,"  said  Cap- 
tain Croome  simply.  "But  all  the  same,  I  shan't  per- 
suade her  to  bolt  with  me  in  one  letter  or  in  two. 
She's  been  so  strictly  brought  up.  It'll  need  a  lot 
of  writing  to  do  it;  and  writing  ain't  my  strong 
point.  But  it's  got  to  be  done.  Will  you  lend  me 
your  little  housekeeper  to  work  the  letter  racket?" 

"Only  after  bacon  hours,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin. 

"Bacon  hours  ?"  said  Captain  Croome  with  a  puz- 
zled air. 

"In  spite  of  her  red  hair,  or,  perhaps,  because  of 
it,  Mrs.  Bride  is  the  one  person  in  London  who  can 
grill  bacon  as  bacon  should  be  grilled.  She  must 
not  leave  here  till  after  breakfast,"  said  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  with  unabated  firmness. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Captain  Croome  with 
some  relief.  "There's  nothing  doing  before  break- 
fast. Grizel  walks  in  Kensington  Gardens  from 
eleven  to  twelve  every  morning.  That's  the  time  to 
work  it." 

"But  how  is  Mrs.  Bride  going  to  deliver  your 
letters?" 

"It  isn't  going  to  be  an  easy  job,"  said  Captain 


178  POLLYOOLY 

Croome.  "I  was  thinking  that  she  might  hit  on  a 
way.  She  hit  on  those  violets." 

"You  stick  to  violets,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin,  with  quick  decision.  "Lady  Grizel  knows 
that  Pollyooly,  violets,  and  notes  go  together.  When 
she  sees  Pollyooly  and  violets,  she'll  know  that  a 
note  is  there." 

"By  Jove !  That's  the  tip !"  cried  Captain  Croome. 

"You  can  begin  by  fitting  Pollyooly  out  as  a 
flower-girl,  and  letting  her  meet  Lady  Grizel  on  her 
way  to  Kensington  Gardens,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  slowly.  "That  ought  to  get  three  let- 
ters through — at  least.  When  it  is  found  out,  we'll 
try  something  else." 

"Right,  by  Jove,  I  do  wish  I'd  come  to  you  ear- 
lier! You  do  have  rippin'  ideas!"  said  Captain 
Croome,  with  a  grateful  appreciation  of  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin's  strategic  ability. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  summoned  Pollyooly, 
and  unfolded  this  plan.  She  listened  to  it  carefully, 
and  slowly  a  radiant  smile  illumined  her  angel  face ; 
his  words  opened  a  vista  of  half-crowns. 

At  the  end  of  it  she  said,  "I  shall  have  to  take  the 
Lump,  sir." 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  179 

"By  all  means,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 
"He  will  lend  a  further  air  of  verisimilitude  to  an 
absolutely  authentic  flower-seller.  And  both  of  you 
had  better  go  just  as  you  are — in  your  old  clothes 
and  without  hats.  You  won't  catch  cold  on  a  sunny 
morning  like  this." 

Pollyooly  looked  just  a  trifle  distressed. 

"Yes,  yes!  I  know  that  you  feel  it  beneath  your 
dignity  as  my  housekeeper  to  go  about  hatless.  But 
it  is  beneath  your  dignity  as  my  housekeeper  to  sell 
flowers  in  the  street  at  all.  Let  us  go  the  whole  hog 
even  though  we  can  not  turn  him  into  bacon,"  said 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  quickly. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with  an  air  of  resig- 
nation. 

Captain  Croome  sat  down  at  the  writing-table, 
and  wrote  his  note  to  Grizel — laboriously.  At  inter- 
vals his  groans  of  parturition  were  uncommonly 
like  grunts.  Then  Pollyooly  fetched  the  Lump  and 
they  went  down-stairs  in  a  body.  They  got  into 
Captain  Croome's  motor-car;  and  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  wished  them  good-by  and  good  luck. 
Captain  Croome  drove  to  Covent  Garden,  and  there 
he  bought  violets  in  the  bunch,  and  in  a  neighboring 


i8o  POLLYOOLY 

street  a  flower-seller's  basket.  Then  he  drove  to 
Prince's  Gate,  wherein  stood  the  Tullislaiths'  town 
house.  On  the  way  Pollyooly  hid  the  note  in  a 
bunch  of  violets ;  and  as  he  passed  them  he  pointed 
out  Knightsbridge  Barracks  to  her.  They  were  less 
than  ten  minutes'  walk  from  the  scene  of  operation. 

Captain  Croome  drove  fifty  yards  beyond  Prince's 
Gate,  stopped  the  car,  and  bade  Pollyooly  come  to 
the  barracks  with  the  tidings  of  her  success  or  fail- 
ure. Then  he  drove  off,  leaving  her  adjusting  the 
strap  of  the  basket  round  her  neck. 

Pollyooly  presented  the  very  picture  of  the  ideal 
flower-seller.  A  Royal  Academician,  not  observing 
that  she  was  far  too  clean  for  the  real,  would  have 
burned  to  paint  her  on  the  spot :  her  angel  face  and 
limpid  blue  eyes  were  in  such  admirable  accord 
with  the  innocent  violets  she  bore. 

That  sedate  but  red-headed  cherub,  the  Lump, 
added  just  the  pretty  final  touch  that  completed  the 
picture  of  the  ideal. 

Pollyooly's  heart  beat  high,  and  by  no  means 
only  with  the  mercenary  anticipation  of  half-a- 
crown.  She  was  full  of  the  joyful  sense  of  adven- 
ture; and  angel  smile  after  angel  smile  wreathed 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  181 

her  beautiful  lips.  Now  and  again,  however,  a 
faint  frown  knitted  her  brow  as  she  considered  the 
importance  of  her  mission  and  the  grave  responsi- 
bility which  rested  on  her. 

The  Lump  was  no  less  content.  With  the  air  of 
an  immature  shepherd  he  drew  his  woolly  lamb  by 
a  string  along  the  smooth  pavement. 

They  walked  slowly  down  to  the  entrance  of  the 
park,  and,  just  as  they  came  to  it,  a  kind  but  sal- 
low lady  of  some  fifty-five  winters  stopped  them, 
and  bought  a  bunch  of  violets.  Then  she  began  to 
make  inquiries  about  their  home  and  parents. 

Pollyooly  was  taken  aback.  It  was  an  event  for 
which  she  had  not  bargained.  She  answered  the 
questions  about  her  parents  easily  enough,  for  they 
had  been  dead  several  years.  But  over  the  question 
of  domicile  she  hesitated.  The  Honorable  John 
Ruffin's  statement  that  it  was  beneath  the  dignity 
of  his  housekeeper  to  sell  flowers  in  the  street  had 
stuck  in  her  mind;  and  of  that  position  she  was 
growing  prouder  and  prouder  the  longer  she  held  it. 

For  a  full  minute  she  was  at  a  loss  for  words, 
then  she  stammered:  "Please,  we  live  with  Mr. 
Ruffin,  and  he  wouldn't  like  us  to  say  where." 


1 82  POLLYOOLY 

"I  expect  not,"  said  the  kind  lady,  shaking  her 
head  with  a  dark  look.  "And  Ruffin  is  a  very  ap- 
propriate name  for  him,  living  on  the  begging  of 
young  children." 

Pollyooly  could  not  believe  her  ears.  When  she 
did,  the  red  hair  came  out.  With  a  scarlet  face  and 
blazing  eyes,  she  cried  furiously:  "It  isn't  true! 
He  doesn't  do  any  such  thing !  He  wouldn't !  He's 
just  the  kindest  gentleman  that  ever  was !  Give  me 
back  those  violets !" 

The  kind,  but  sallow  lady  turned  yellower,  and 
shrank  back. 

Pollyooly  sprang  upon  her,  tore  the  violets  from 
her  nerveless  fingers,  thrust  the  penny  into  them, 
and  said:  "There  you  are!  Take  it!  And  just 
don't  you  interfere  with  me  again !  You  mind  your 
own  business !" 

The  kind,  but  sallow,  lady  turned,  and  frankly 
scuttled  off.  She  was  so  greatly  upset  by  the  fury 
of  Pollyooly 's  onslaught  that  she  scuttled  fully  a 
hundred  yards  before  she  remembered  that  she  had 
a  weak  heart.  Then  she  took  a  cab,  and  went  home 
to  have  some  fits  of  palpitation  and  resolve  never 
again  to  seek  the  good  of  ideal  flower-sellers, 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  183 

Pollyooly  looked  after  her  scuttling  form  with  a 
dark  and  lowering  frown;  then  her  face  began  to 
clear;  for  her  anger  was  used  to  go  as  quickly  as  it 
came.  But  before  it  was  quite  clear,  two  young 
men  and  two  maidens  descended  on  her,  and  began 
to  buy  her  violets.  They  were  some  time  about  it, 
for  they  had  to  laugh  and  joke  a  great  deal.  The 
young  men  gave  her  two  shillings,  and  passed  on. 

Pollyooly  looked  at  the  two  shillings  and  then, 
bidding  the  Lump  stand  quite  still,  ran  after  them. 

"Please,  sir;  you've  given  me  two  shillings;  and 
it's  only  one!"  she  cried,  holding  out  one  of  the 
shillings. 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  said  one  of  the  young 
men,  smiling  back  at  her. 

Pollyooly  returned  to  the  Lump,  wondering  at  the 
extravagance  of  the  leisured  classes. 

Then  she  saw  Lady  Grizel  Harland  crossing  the 
road  accompanied  by  a  gaunt  maid  of  dragon-like 
aspect.  Grizel  walked  with  a  very  listless  step,  wear- 
ing a  somber  air;  she  looked  to  be  plunged  in  gloomy 
reflection.  At  first  her  eyes  rested  on  Pollyooly  and 
the  Lump  with  no  light  of  recognition  in  them. 
Then  they  brightened;  then  they  saw  the  violets, 


1 84  POLLYOOLY 

and  brightened  yet  more ;  and  then  that  angel  child, 
Pollyooly — I  blush  to  tell  it — closed  her  left  eye  in 
a  deliberate  and  premeditated  wink.  As  she 
winked,  she  held  out  a  bunch  of  violets. 

Grizel  flushed,  and  her  eyes  sparkled  like  stars. 

"Oh,  what  pretty  children !"  she  cried  in  the  most 
ingenuous  tone,  conveying  to  her  watchful  dragon 
the  strong  impression  that  she  had  never  set  her 
beautiful  eyes  on  them  before — so  true  is  it  that 
even  in  the  most  innocent  woman  there  is  a  vast 
store  of  protective  deceit,  only  waiting  for  the 
pressure  of  necessity  to  be  drawn  upon  for  her  ad- 
vantage. 

Even  as  she  spoke,  her  fingers  closed  on  the  bunch 
of  violets  in  Pollyooly's  outstretched  hand. 

She  fastened  them  firmly  in  her  waistband.  Then 
she  took  a  shilling  from  her  purse  and  gave  it  to 
Pollyooly,  while  her  maid  snorted  in  the  genuine 
dragon  fashion;  and,  if  flame  did  not  burst  from  her 
nostrils,  it  was  not  for  want  of  will. 

"What's  your  name,  little  girl?"  said  Grizel. 

"My  name's  Mary  Bride,  but  everybody  calls  me 
Pollyooly,"  said  that  angel  child. 

"Then  you  have  two  pretty  names,"  said  Grizel. 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  185 

"And  I  suppose  this  dear  little  boy  with  you  is  your 
brother?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Pollyooly. 

Grizel  picked  him  up  and  kissed  him.  She  had 
to  kiss  some  one,  with  those  violets  in  her  belt. 

"I  do  wonder  at  you,  Lady  Grizel!"  cried  her 
scandalized  maid  in  a  tone  of  disgust.  "Picking  up 
a  beggar's  brat  in  the  streets  and  kissing  him!" 

"He  won't  bite,  Symons,"  said  Grizel  coldly. 
"And  he's  as  clean  as  a  new  pin." 

She  set  down  the  Lump,  kissed  Pollyooly,  glanc- 
ing defiantly  at  her  maid  as  she  did  it,  bade  them 
good-by,  and  walked  on.  Her  hand  kept  straying  to 
the  violets  in  her  belt  to  assure  her  that  they  were 
still  there.  As  she  went  into  the  park  she  turned 
and  blew  a  kiss  of  gratitude  to  Pollyooly. 

Pollyooly  walked  quickly  on  toward  the  barracks, 
so  full  of  pleasure  at  the  successful  accomplishment 
of  her  task  that  she  had  quite  forgotten  the  kind,  but 
sallow,  lady.  Half-way  to  the  barracks  a  very  sav- 
age-looking old  gentleman  stopped  short  in  front  of 
them,  bringing  them  up  dead,  and,  scowling  fiercely 
at  Pollyooly,  dragged  a  handful  of  money  from  his 
pocket  and  gave  her  sixpence. 


186  POLLYOOLY 

Timidly  and  hastily  Pollyooly  took  three  bunches 
of  violets  from  her  basket  and  held  them  out  to 
him. 

He  gazed  at  them  as  if  he  could  have  torn  them 
to  pieces  with  his  teeth.  "Violets!"  he  cried,  with 
ill-contained  ferocity.  "I  don't  want  any  violets! 
Keep  them!  Beastly  things!"  And  he  went  fu- 
riously on. 

"T-t-thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  faintly  after 
him,  and  she  dropped  a  curtsey  to  the  empty  air. 

The  old  gentleman  went  on  with  unabated  sav- 
agery. He  was  plainly  one  of  those  to  whom  vege- 
table beauty  does  not  appeal. 

Before  she  reached  the  barracks,  Pollyooly  sold 
four  more  bunches  of  violets.  As  she  went  up  the 
steps  of  that  palatial  structure,  she  was  puzzling 
over  the  difficult  question  of  how  much  of  the  four- 
and-two  pence  she  had  earned  belonged  rightfully 
to  Captain  Croome.  She  could  not  but  regard  the 
savage  old  gentleman's  sixpence  as  her  own,  but  she 
was  very  doubtful  about  Grizel's  shilling. 

The  sentry  at  the  top  of  the  steps  was  for  stop- 
ping lier;  but  another  soldier,  Captain  Croome's 
servant,  was  awaiting  her  coming,  told  him  that  she 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  187 

was  to  be  admitted,  and  conducted  her  and  the 
Lump  to  Captain  Croome's  quarters. 

He  was  awaiting  her  impatiently,  and,  when  he 
learned  that  she  had  been  successful  in  her  mission, 
he  overwhelmed  her  with  thanks  and  praise.  Then 
he  told  her  that  he  would  probably  want  her  again 
on  the  morrow,  and  gave  her  five  shillings. 

Pollyooly  took  them  with  shining  eyes;  she  had 
only  expected  half-a-crown.  Then  she  laid  down 
three-and-eight-pence  on  the  table.  . 

"What's  this?"  said  Captain  Croome,  somewhat 
startled. 

"That's  what  I  sold  some  of  the  violets  for,"  said 
Pollyooly. 

"Keep  it,  keep  it,"  said  Captain  Croome,  laugh- 
ing. "You've  earned  it  fifty  times  over.  And  take 
the  basket  along  with  you,  ready  for  use  again  to- 
morrow." 

Pollyooly  stammered  out  her  thanks  and  came 
out  of  the  barracks  somewhat  stunned.  She  had 
made  nine  shillings  and  two-pence  by  less  than  half- 
an-hour's  easy  work.  Such  an  exploit  ran  counter 
to  all  experience;  she  was  too  young  to  grasp  the 
fact  that  there  were  two  quite  distinct  worlds,  and 


1 88  POLLYOOLY 

that  a  fortunate  accident  had  thrown  her  into  the 
world  in  which  money  was. 

When  she  came  put  of  the  barracks,  she  was 
tempted  to  walk  down  to  Piccadilly  and  sell  more 
violets  as  she  went  but  it  did  not  seem  to  her  right. 
She  felt  that  it  was  one  thing  for  the  housekeeper 
of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  to  sell  flowers  in  the 
street  as  a  cloak  to  her  real  work  as  Love's  Messen- 
ger, but  another  thing  for  her  to  sell  violets  for  the 
mere  sake  of  money. 

But  as  she  rode  home  on  the  motor-'bus,  she  con- 
soled herself  by  the  thought  that  she  had  dis- 
covered a  lucrative  profession  to  which  she  could 
profitably  devote  herself,  when  the  evil  day  came, 
against  the  coming  of  which  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  often  warned  her,  and  his  creditors,  at  last 
victorious,  hailed  him  to  the  dungeons  of  Holloway. 

As  they  passed  the  park  she  looked  into  it  long- 
ingly. She  would  have  liked  to  take  the  Lump  to 
the  banks  of  the  Serpentine  for  an  hour.  But  she 
had  come  away  from  the  Temple  before  her  work 
was  done;  and  there  were  beds  to  make  and  bed- 
rooms to  dust.  She  set  about  them  as  soon  as  she 
reached  the  Temple ;  and  when  they  were  done,  she 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  189 

put  the  violets  in  water  and  disposed  them  about  the 
two  sitting-rooms.  Then  she  gave  the  Lump  his 
dinner;  and  after  it  she  went  forth  to  the  post-of- 
fice with  her  savings  bank-book  and  paid  nine 
shillings  into  her  account. 

As  she  went  out  of  the  post-office,  the  girl  who 
had  entered  the  deposit  in  her  book,  said  to  the  older 
girl  beside  her,  "Where  that  child  gets  the  money 
she  does  beats  me.  She's  paid  in  more  than  twenty- 
five  pounds  in  two  months." 

"I  expect  her  face  has  a  lot  to  do  with  it,"  said 
the  older  girl  with  an  air  of  wide  experience.  "You 
know  what  men  are.  It's  all  the  face  with  them." 

"They  are  silly,"  said  the  younger  girl  contemp- 
tuously. 

"Yes.  But  I  wish  I'd  got  that  brat's  face,"  said 
the  older  girl  slowly. 

The  next  morning  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
found  his  room  scented  and  adorned  with  violets; 
and  when  Pollyooly  brought  in  his  bacon,  he 
thanked  her  for  them  and  asked  how  she  had  fared 
in  her  mission.  She  told  him  how  easily  she  had 
delivered  the  note  to  Grizel. 

"So   far  so  good;   but — I  should   like  to  have 


POLLYOOLY 

written  that  note  myself,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  thoughtfully,  with  the  air  of  one  who  had  a 
deep-rooted  distrust  of  the  epistolary  powers  of  the 
household  brigade. 

It  proved  well-founded,  for  he  had  finished  his 
breakfast  but  a  few  minutes  when  Captain  Croome 
came  in  a  very  somber  mood. 

He  sank  heavily  into  an  easy-chair  and  said 
gloomily:  "It's  no  go;  she  won't  hear  of  it." 

"Isn't  it  rather  early  to  be  depressed?"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  calmly.  "What,  after  all,  is 
a  woman's  'No'?  Is  it  not  a  polite  form  of  'Yes'?" 

"That  sounds  as  if  you'd  begun  to  rot;  and  if  you 
have,  there's  no  doing  anything,"  said  Captain 
Croome  sadly. 

"Well,  you  didn't  expect  her  to  see  it  the  first 
time,  did  you?"  said  his  adviser  coldly.  "And 
what's  more,  you  wouldn't  have  liked  it  if  she  had. 
What  you've  got  to  do  is  to  peg  away." 

"She  seems  awfully  determined  about  it.  Her 
letter's  very  firm,"  said  Captain  Croome;  but  his 
face  brightened  a  little. 

"Of  course  it  is.  The  idea  startled  her  at  first. 
It  would  startle  any  nice  girl.  But  probably  by  now 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  191 

she's  beginning  to  think  how  nice  it  would  be  if  she 
could.  If  you  write  the  right  kind  of  letters,  you'll 
make  it  seem  nicer  than  ever,  and  at  last  she'll  see 
that  it's  her  duty  to  put  you  out  of  your  misery." 

Captain  Croome  looked  at  him  with  admiration, 
and  said:  "No  one  would  ever  think  you  were  a 
gentleman,  Rtiffin ;  you  do  know  such  a  lot.  But  the 
nuisance  is,  I'm  not  much  of  a  hand  at  writing  let- 
ters ;  I  can't  ever  get  down  exactly  what  I  mean." 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  regarded  him  with  a 
thoughtful  frown ;  then  he  said :  "Well,  of  course 
I  can't  be  expected  to  know  your  exact  feelings,  but 
I  might  be  able  to  give  you  a  tip  or  two." 

"By  Jove!   If  you  would!"  cried  his  friend. 

"Well,  when  I've  finished  my  breakfast,  we'll 
see  about  it.  But  of  course  it's  very  difficult  to 
know  another  man's  feelings  exactly.  Still  I  know 
Lady  Grizel ;  and  that's  very  important.  I  can  guess 
pretty  well  what  she'd  like  you  to  say ;  and  of  course 
the  way  to  a  woman's  heart  is  to  say  what  she  wants 
to  hear,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  senten- 
tiously. 

"You're  a  rum  beggar,  Ruffin,"  said  Captain 
Croome  in  a  tone  of  admiration. 


192  POLLYOOLY 

"Thank  you  for  the  tribute,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  gravely. 

He  continued  his  breakfast  in  his  usual  leisurely 
fashion ;  and  there  was  a  sore  struggle  between  the 
politeness  and  the  impatience  of  Captain  Croome. 
His  politeness  won,  for  he  felt  that  his  friend  would 
permit  no  attempt  to  curtail  that  leisurely  meal. 
Any  such  attempt  would  probably  cause  him  to 
lengthen  it. 

But  at  last  it  came  to  an  end ;  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  lighted  a  cigar;  and  they  betook  themselves 
to  their  task.  Slowly  and  surely  they  composed  and 
wrote  a  brief,  but  melting  letter. 

When  he  had  signed  it,  Captain  Croome  set  down 
the  pen,  and  said,  in  a  tone  of  awe:  "By  Jove! 
That's  perfectly  ripping!" 

"A  few  like  that  ought  to  soften  Lady  Grizel's 
stern  resolution,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
dispassionately. 

"Rather,"  said  Captain  Croome. 

"When  I  do  a  thing — not  that  I  often  do — I  like 
to  do  it  thoroughly.  Besides,  I  do  hate  that  old 
Tullislaith  cat,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
with  real  feeling. 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  193 

Captain  Croome  carried  off  Pollyooly  and  the 
Lump  to  Covent  Garden  for  violets,  and  thence  to 
Prince's  Gate.  She  was  less  fortunate  in  the  sale 
of  the  violets  than  she  had  been  the  day  before,  and 
had  made  but  a  paltry  fourpence  when  Grizel  and  the 
dragon  appeared. 

Grizel  no  longer  wore  a  despondent  air ;  her  eyes 
were  shining ;  and  she  walked  with  a  firm  and  eager 
step. 

When  she  reached  the  children,  she  took  the 
bunch  of  violets  from  Pollyooly  with  a  radiant 
smile,  saying :  "You  here  again,  you  dear  children ! 
I  am  so  pleased  to  see  you!" 

The  dragon  snorted  more  fiercely  than  ever,  and 
growled :  "Encouraging  begging,  I  call  it." 

"You  weren't  asked  to  call  it  anything,  Symons," 
said  Grizel  coldly. 

She  picked  up  the  Lump  again  and  kissed  him, 
and  asked  his  name.  Then  she  gave  him  some  choc- 
olate creams  which  she  had  brought  with  her  on  the 
chance  of  their  meeting.  Then  she  kissed  him  again, 
gave  Pollyooly  a  shilling,  and  went  on  her  way  with 
her  dragon  and  her  treasure. 

Pollyooly  had  performed  her  task,  but  it  was  not 


194  POLLYOOLY 

her  lucky  day.  The  kind,  but  sallow,  lady  had 
passed  along  the  other  side  of  the  road  as  she  was 
talking  to  Lady  Grizel;  and  the  sight  of  the  two 
children  recalled  painfully  to  her  mind  the  fits  of 
palpitation  of  the  heart  which  she  had  suffered  after 
her  brief  interview  with  Pollyooly  the  day  before. 
She  called  the  attention  of  a  leisured  policeman  to 
the  impropriety  of  allowing  two  young  children  to 
beg  in  that  select  and  fashionable  quarter. 

Finding  that  she  resided  in  it,  the  policeman 
thought  it  wise  to  act  on  her  suggestion.  He 
crossed  the  road  to  meet  Pollyooly  as,  her  task  per- 
formed, she  came  briskly  along  to  Knightsbridge 
Barracks. 

She  was  passing  him,  indeed  she  was  hardly  see- 
ing him,  when  he  pulled  her  up  short  with  the  start- 
ling words : 

"You've  no  business  to  be  beggin'  'ere,  young 
'un.  You  come  along  o'  me  to  the  station." 

Pollyooly  was  startled,  but  not  afraid.  She  had 
not  the  Alsatian  child's  fear  of  the  police;  the  obese 
constable  of  Mut tie-Deeping  had  been  rather  an 
official  decoration  of  the  village  than  a  terror;  the 
kindly  joviality  of  Mr.  Brown  had  caused  her  to 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  195 

regard  the  London  police  as  mere  human  beings  in 
blue. 

"Please,  sir;  I  wasn't  begging,"  she  said. 

"Sellin'  vi'lets  is  beggin',"  said  the  policeman 
with  all  the  conviction  of  a  man  who  has  an  act  of 
parliament  behind  his  statement. 

"But  I'm  not  selling  violets,  not  really.  I'm  only 
pretending  to.  I'm  doing  something  for  Captain 
Croome.  He  lives  in  Knightsbridge  Barracks," 
Pollyooly  protested. 

"You  can  spin  any  yarn  you  want  to  the  Inspect- 
or," said  the  policeman  coldly  incredulous.  "You 
come  along  o'  me." 

There  was  plainly  nothing  else  to  be  done;  and 
Pollyooly  and  the  Lump  came  along  with  him;  and 
they  had  not  gone  very  far  before,  in  spite  of  the 
select  and  fashionable  character  of  the  neighbor- 
hood, five  rude  boys  were  coming  along  with  them, 
too,  and  loudly  discussing,  in  the  least  complimen- 
tary terms,  Pollyooly 's  hair  and  the  length  of  the 
term  of  imprisonment  she  would  suffer. 

Pollyooly  was  still  undismayed,  but  she  was  bit- 
terly mortified.  This  was  no  position  for  the  house- 
keeper of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffm.  She  was  glad 


196  POLLYOOLY 

indeed  that  they  were  in  a  neighborhood  in  which 
there  was  no  chance  of  meeting  any  of  her  friends 
or  acquaintances. 

So  the  Messenger  of  Love  came  to  the  police 
station  in  this  ignominious  fashion.  The  policeman 
preferred  his  charge;  and  the  Inspector  at  the 
desk  examined  the  delinquents  with  the  proper  stern 
official  frown.  His  brow  grew  much  smoother  at 
the  sight  of  their  faces. 

It  was  fortunate  that  Pollyooly  was  merely  mor- 
tified and  dismayed  and  not  terrified.  She  main- 
tained her  calm  bearing  and  answered  the  questions 
of  the  Inspector  quite  clearly.  She  lived  at  Seventy- 
five,  the  King's  Bench  Walk  in  the  Temple,  and  was 
the  housekeeper  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin.  He 
went  to  the  Law  Courts  every  day  in  a  wig  and 
gown.  She  was  not  really  a  flower-seller  at  all.  She 
was  only  pretending  to  be  one  in  order  to  do  some- 
thing for  Captain  Croome  who  lived  in  Knights- 
bridge  Barracks.  She  could  not  say  what  it  was.  It 
was  a  secret;  and  she  was  sure  Captain  Croome 
would  not  like  her  to  tell. 

It  was  a  strange  tale ;  and  the  Inspector  was  used 
to  strange  tales.  He  was  no  less  used  to  disbeliev- 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  197 

ing  them.  At  the  same  time  he  had  had  infinite  ex- 
perience in  questioning  his  fellow-creatures;  and  he 
knew  when  they  were  telling  the  truth.  It  seemed 
to  him  that  Pollyooly  was  telling  the  truth. 

He  scratched  his  head  with  a  puzzled  air,  and 
said,  "Do  you  do  anything  else  besides  keep  house 
for  Mr.  Rufrm  and  sell  violets  for  Captain 
Croome?" 

"I'm  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins'  laundress.  I  get  his 
breakfast  and  clean  his  rooms.  They're  across  the 
landing,"  said  Pollyooly. 

The  Inspector  sat  upright  in  his  chair.  He  knew 
the  name  of  that  eminent  criminal  counsel  very  well 
indeed.  He  had,  indeed,  been  cross-examined  by 
him,  for  the  most  part  in  a  furious  bellow;  and  he 
had  by  no  means  forgotten  that  cross-examination. 
If  Pollyooly 's  story  were  true,  it  behooved  him  to 
walk  warily  indeed  in  the  matter  of  a  child  who  en- 
joyed such  a  powerful  employer. 

He  scratched  his  head  again  and  said  doubtfully, 
"They  look  uncommon  clean,  both  of  them." 

"They  gets  more  when  they're  clean — in  this 
neighborhood,"  said  the  policeman  with  an  air  of 
wide  experience.  He  was  still  wholly  incredulous. 


198  POLLYOOLY 

The  Inspector  rose,  went  to  the  telephone,  rang 
up  Knightsbridge  Barracks,  and  asked  to  speak  to 
Captain  Croome.  Polly ooly  heaved  a  sigh  of  re- 
lief when  she  heard  him  ask  for  him.  Captain 
Croome  presently  came  to  the  telephone ;  and  the  In- 
spector informed  him  of  the  arrest  of  Pollyooly. 
As  a  rule  Captain  Croome  was  a  strong,  silent  man ; 
but  on  the  receipt  of  these  tidings  he  swore  at  the 
metropolitan  police  with  a  fluency  that  at  once  as- 
sured the  Inspector  that  he  had  to  do  with  a  gentle- 
man. When  Captain  Croome  had  fully  expressed 
all  his  opinions  of  the  metropolitan  police  force, 
he  said  that  he  would  at  once  motor  round  to  the 
police  station;  and  the  Inspector  bade  Pollyooly  to 
sit  down. 

She  perched  herself  on  a  chair,  with  the  Lump  on 
her  knee,  and  awaited  the  coming  of  the  deliverer 
with  a  mind  at  ease.  Captain  Croome  arrived  in 
less  than  ten  minutes ;  and  perhaps  it  was  well  that 
his  temper  had  calmed  down  to  its  usual  amiability. 
He  explained  Pollyooly's  real  errand  to  the  Inspect- 
or in  private,  assuring  him  that  he  had  not  really 
arrested  a  flower-seller  at  all  but  the  Messenger  of 
Love. 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  199 

The  Inspector  received  the  information  with  a 
respectful  grin,  and  gave  Captain  Croome  leave  to 
take  the  children  away  with  him.  But  he  also  de- 
clared firmly  that  Pollyooly  must  not  even  pretend 
to  sell  violets  about  Prince's  Gate,  since  the  resi- 
dents in  that  fashionable  district  expected  the  police 
to  keep  it  select;  she  must  find  some  other  way  of 
delivering  her  message. 

Pollyooly  was  relieved  indeed  to  escape  from  the 
police  station;  and  Captain  Croome  apologized  at 
length  for  having  got  her  into  such  a  distressing 
position.  He  was  overjoyed  to  learn  that  she  had 
delivered  the  note  before  she  was  arrested.  He 
drove  them  to  the  Temple;  and  on  the  way  he 
bought  them  the  largest  box  of  delicious  chocolate 
creams  to  be  found  in  a  shop. 

As  he  stopped  in  the  King's  Bench  Walk,  frown- 
ing a  little  anxiously,  he  said,  "We  shall  have  to 
find  some  other  way  for  you  to  deliver  those  notes." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Ruffin  will  easily  think  of  one,  sir," 
said  Pollyooly  confidently. 

The  next  morning,  when  she  brought  him  his 
bacon,  she  told  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  of  her 


200  POLLYOOLY 

arrest;  and  he  condoled  with  her  in  the  most  sym- 
pathetic fashion. 

Then  he  said  in  an  indulgent  tone,  "You  must  try 
to  forgive  the  police.  They  overflow  with  such  a 
superabundance  of  furious  energy,  that  they  will 
make  work  for  themselves." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with  equal  indulgence. 

Presently  Captain  Croome  came  with  a  very 
cheerful  face. 

"She's  weakenin'  a  bit — she's  weakenin'  !"  he 
cried  joyously. 

"I  expect  that  the  letter  revealed  unsuspected 
depths  in  your  nature,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  with  an  amiable  grin. 

"Well,  we  did  get  down  exactly  what  I  wanted  to 
say,"  said  his  simple-minded  friend. 

As  soon  as  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  had  fin- 
ished his  breakfast  they  addressed  themselves  to  the 
composition  of  yet  another  moving  epistle;  and 
Captain  Croome  professed  himself  even  more 
pleased  with  it  than  with  the  first. 

Then  they  debated  earnestly  in  what  manner 
Pollyooly  should  deliver  it. 

"Well,  there's  no  doubt  that  this  walk  in  Ken- 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  201 

sington  Gardens  is  the  weak  point  in  Lady  Tullis- 
laith's  scheme  of  seclusion,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  with  conviction.  "In  Kensington  Gar- 
dens this  letter  must  be  delivered;  and  we  must 
leave  the  manner  of  its  deliverance  to  Pollyooly. 
I  think  we  can:  she  has  an  uncommonly  fertile 
mind." 

"She  has  that,"  said  Captain  Croome  in  warm 
assent. 

"Besides,  Lady  Grizel  will  give  her  the  chance. 
She'll  make  it,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

"She's  bound  to,"  said  Captain  Croome  hope- 
fully. 

"Well,  you'd  better  be  in  Kensington  Gardens 
when  they  come  there,  Pollyooly.  Then  just  hang- 
about  till  you  get  the  chance.  Don't  go  too  near 
them:  you  don't  want  Argus,  Lady  Grizel's  maid's 
name  is  Argus,  of  course,  to  recognize  you,"  said 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

"No,  sir;  but  she  calls  her  'Symons,'  sir,"  said 
Pollyooly. 

"A  pet  name,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

Pollyooly  hesitated;  then  she  said,  "Please,  sir: 
can  I  wear  a  hat,  sir  ?" 


202  POLLYOOLY 

"Certainly — certainly — as  many  as  you  like,"  said 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin.  'The  disguise  of  a 
flower-seller  is  no  longer  needed.  You  can  wear 
your  prettiest  frock  if  you  like.  Hurry  up  and  get 
it  on." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  gratefully. 

"And  I  think  you'd  better  ask  that  friend  of 
yours — what's  her  name?  Mrs.  Brown — yes,  Mrs. 
Brown — to  take  charge  of  the  Lump  for  you  this 
morning.  You  had  better  be  unhampered.  Speed 
may  be  necessary." 

Pollyooly's  face  fell  a  little.  She  would  have  en- 
joyed taking  the  Lump  in  glorious  apparel  in  Cap- 
tain Croome's  motor-car.  But  she  said,  "Very  well, 
sir;"  and  hurried  away. 

She  was  quick  changing  into  her  golden  frock; 
then  she  took  the  Lump  to  Mrs.  Brown  in  Alsatia. 
Several  of  its  inhabitants  spoke  to  her  about  her 
frock  as  she  passed,  in  terms  which  showed  envious 
natures;  but  she  was  too  busy  to  give  them  the  ap- 
propriate answers. 

She  left  the  Lump  in  charge  of  Mrs.  Brown,  who 
was  no  less  delighted  to  have  his  society  for  the 
morning  than  overwhelmed  fry  the  splendor  of 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  203 

Pollyooly's  attire,  and  hurried  back  to  the  Temple. 
She  found  Captain  Croome  awaiting  her  in  his  car; 
and  he  drove  her  swiftly  to  Prince's  Gate.  On  the 
way  they  stopped  and  bought  a  bunch  of  violets; 
and  Pollyooly  hid  the  moving  epistle  in  the  middle 
of  it. 

A  very  cheerful  and  even  excited  Grizel,  a  Grizel 
who  was  making  up  her  mind  to  elope  and  finding 
her  spirits  rising  in  the  process,  left  the  Tullislaith 
house  in  Prince's  Gate  that  morning.  But  when  she 
came  to  the  entrance  to  the  gardens  without  having 
seen  Pollyooly  and  the  Lump,  her  spirits  fell  and 
fell.  She  had  not,  however,  lost  hope ;  and  she  kept 
looking  for  them  with  eager  eyes.  She  did  not  for 
a  while  recognize  Pollyooly  in  the  little  girl  in  the 
golden  frock  who  sauntered  along  the  path  in  front 
of  her  and  Symons.  Then  she  saw  that  she  had 
Pollyooly's  red  hair.  Then  she  saw  that  the  little 
girl  had  a  bunch  of  violets  in  her  hand;  and  her 
heart  began  to  beat  high. 

But  the  little  girl  did  not  look  round ;  and  Grizel 
could  not  be  sure  that  it  was  Pollyooly.  Pollyooly 
dared  not  look  round,  for  she  feared  lest  the  maid 
should  recognize  her;  and  she  could  not  be  sure 


204  POLLYOOLY 

that  Grizel  knew  it  was  she.  But  when  she  came  to 
a  seat  embowered  in  a  clump  of  bushes,  without 
looking  round,  she  pointed  to  it,  left  the  path  and 
walked  round  the  clump.  To  her  joy  Grizel  and 
Symons  sat  down  on  the  seat;  and  through  the 
bushes  she  saw  Symons,  who  was  a  keen  student 
of  manners,  plunge  eagerly  into  the  novel  she  had 
brought  with  her,  while  Grizel,  sitting  sidewise  on 
the  seat,  with  her  arm  over  the  back  of  it,  peered 
quietly  into  the  clump. 

But  Pollyooly  could  not  go  through  the  clump, 
contact  with  London  bushes  would  ruin  her  frock. 
She  stole  very  quietly  to  the  corner  of  the  clump 
and  peeped  round  it.  Grizel  smiled  at  her  without 
stirring;  Symons  remained  buried  in  her  novel. 
Pollyooly  held  up  the  bunch  of  violets,  laid  them  on 
the  turf  at  the  corner  of  the  clump,  and  slipped 
back  behind  it. 

Grizel  said,  "I  believe  there's  a  bird's  nest  in  the 
corner  of  these  bushes,  Symons." 

Symons,  an  urban  soul,  grunted  indifference. 

Grizel  walked  to  the  corner  of  the  clump,  picked 
up  the  violets,  and  blew  a  kiss  to  the  vanishing 
Pollyooly. 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  205 

Neither  the  next  morning,  nor  the  morning  after 
did  Captain  Croome,  to  the  great  disappointment  of 
Pollyooly,  come  to  the  Temple.  But  on  the  after- 
noon of  the  second  day  there  came  a  letter  from  him 
to  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  saying  that  he  had 
had  no  word  from  Grizel. 

Pollyooly  brought  in  his  tea  as  the  Honorable 
John  was  answering  it,  and  he  said:  "You  will  be 
pleased  to  hear,  Pollyooly,  that  the  course  of  true 
love  is  at  last  running  smoothly.  To-morrow  Captain 
Croome  will  come  in  triumph.  His  lady-love  is  let- 
ting a  silent,  decorous  interval  elapse  before  she  as- 
sents to  his  being  Young  Lochinvar  in  a  taxicab." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with  an  amiable  smile. 

Sure  enough,  the  next  morning  proved  him  a  true 
prophet.  He  had  eaten  but  one  rasher  of  bacon 
when  Captain  Croome  dashed  into  his  room,  red 
with  joy,  and  cried :  "She's  agreed !  She's  agreed !" 

"Good,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  calmly. 
"Sit  down  and  have  some  breakfast." 

"Breakfast!  You  don't  suppose  I  want  any 
breakfast!"  cried  Captain  Croome  with  horrid 
scorn. 

"I  did.     But  I  perceive  that  you  are  too  full  of 


206  POLLYOOLY 

joy  to  hold  food  al  the  moment.  You  will  probably 
make  a  better  lunch  for  your  abstinence,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Rtiffin  with  philosophic  detachment. 

"How  anybody  can  think  about  food,  I  can't 
imagine !"  cried  Captain  Croome  with  the  air  of  an 
enthusiast. 

"You  ought  to  be  able  to,  with  this  evidence 
staring  you  in  the  face.  I'm  not  only  thinking  about 
it;  I'm  eating  it,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin, 
proceeding  with  his  bacon. 

By  the  time  he  had  finished  his  breakfast  Captain 
Croome  had  simmered  down  just  enough  to  discuss 
intelligently  the  manner  of  Grizel's  evasion.  He 
was  for  motoring  her  out  of  London  to  some  quiet 
Surrey  village  for  their  honeymoon.  But  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  would  not  hear  of  it. 

"Owing  to  the  efforts  of  the  common  road-hog, 
the  motor-car  is  so  easily  traced  nowadays,"  he 
said.  "But  there  is  a  practically  unused  station  in 
London,  called  Fenchurch  Street,  from  which  no- 
body ever  goes,  though  trains  do.  From  there  you 
can  go  to  the  village  of  Pitsea,  and  it  will  be  weeks 
before  your  pursuers  learn  that  there  is  a  village 
called  Pitsea,  much  less  that  you  are  there.  Your 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  207 

first  evasion  from  Prince's  Gate  will,  of  course,  be 
made  in  a  taxicab." 

Captain  Croome  accepted  this  plan  with  enthusi- 
asm. He  committed  as  much  of  it  as  was  necessary 
to  writing,  filled  up  the  letter  with  gratitude  and 
devotion,  and  Pollyooly  delivered  it  safely  to  the 
now  impatient  Grizel  at  the  corner  of  the  very 
same  clump  of  bushes  at  which  she  had  delivered 
the  last. 

That  afternoon  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  de- 
voted to  assisting  his  friend  to  procure  the  special 
license,  by  the  process  of  false  entry,  and  the  wed- 
ding-ring. 

At  ten  o'clock  the  next  morning  he  said  to  Polly- 
ooly, "Take  your  brother  to  your  friend,  Mrs. 
Brown,  and  leave  him  in  her  charge.  Then  put  on 
your  finest  attire  and  prepare  to  accompany  me  to 
the  church.  Young  women  in  the  process  of  getting 
married  like  to  have  one  of  their  own  sex  with 
them,  and  Lady  Grizel  knows  you.  You  will  there- 
fore be  an  excellent  person  to  discharge  the  function 
of  bridesmaid." 

Pollyooly  made  haste  to  carry  out  his  instructions. 
She  took  the  Lump  to  Mrs.  Brown,  and  came  back 


208  POLLYOOLY 

and  dressed.  Since  Grizel  had  already  seen  her  twice 
in  her  golden  frock,  she  put  on  her  blue  one. 

When  she  came  into  his  sitting-room,  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  was  opening  a  large  cardboard 
box.  He  paused  to  survey  Pollyooly  with  approving 
eyes,  and  said,  "You  are  the  most  trustworthy  per- 
son of  my  acquaintance,  Mrs.  Bride.  I  knew  that 
you  had  but  to  be  called  on  to  show  yourself  the 
ideal  bridesmaid;  and  there  you  are,  the  complete 
thing  within  the  limits  of  your  resources.  There  is, 
however,  the  matter  of  shoes  and  gloves;  and  for 
those  we  must  hie  to  St.  Paul's  Churchyard.  There 
are  the  nearest  female  shops,  and  they  must  serve." 

With  that  he  took  from  the  box  a  beautiful 
bride's  bouquet;  and  they  made  haste  to  St.  Paul's 
Churchyard.  There  he  bought  her  shoes,  and  a  pair 
of  gloves  to  match  her  frock.  Pollyooly  came  out 
of  the  shop  enjoying  an  immense  sense  of  complete- 
ness. 

They  reached  the  church  at  a  few  minutes  past 
eleven,  and  after  ascertaining  that  the  parson  was 
waiting,  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  and  Pollyooly 
took  up  their  stand  in  the  porch. 

At   that   very   time   an    observant   person    near 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  209 

Prince's  Gate  might  have  seen  a  pretty  and  mani- 
festly excited  girl,  accompanied  by  a  fierce  maid 
bearing  a  fair-sized  hand-bag,  which  she  fondly  be- 
lieved to  contain  the  apparatus  for  sketching, 
approaching  the  entrance  to  Hyde  Park.  That 
observer's  interest  might  have  changed  to  a  mild 
astonishment  when  the  pretty  girl  suddenly  snatched 
the  hand-bag  from  the  maid  and  sprang  into  a 
taxicab  which  was  slowing  down  by  the  curb  as  it 
met  them;  and  his  astonishment  might  have  been 
changed  to  amusement  by  the  futility  of  the  action 
of  the  maid  who  bounded,  with  savage  cries  and 
bared  teeth,  after  the  taxicab  which  bore  her  charge 
so  swiftly  away. 

Pollyooly  and  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  had 
not  long  to  wait.  The  taxicab  was  quick  in  bringing 
the  flying  lovers  to  the  church.  Grizel,  paling  and 
flushing  by  turns,  was  ravishing  to  the  eye.  Cap- 
tain Croome,  once  out  of  the  steadying  taxicab, 
presented  every  appearance  of  a  man  who  had  not 
the  slightest  idea  whether  he  was  standing  on  his 
head  or  his  heels. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  paid  the  cab  driver, 
grasping  his  friend's  arm  with  a  grip  of  iron,  and 


210  POLLYOOLY 

guided,  or  rather  propelled,  him  firmly  up  the  aisle. 
Grizel  clutched  Pollyooly's  hand  with  the  vigor  of 
a  drowning  man  clutching  a  straw,  and  held  it  tight 
till  they  reached  the  altar.  During  the  ceremony 
she  bore  herself  with  a  far  more  composed  and  in- 
telligent air  than  did  the  bridegroom,  though  she 
was  very  pale,  and  he  was  very  red.  The  Honorable 
John  Ruffin,  who  hated  to  leave  anything  to  chance, 
produced  the  ring  at  the  right  moment,  and  the  pair 
were  firmly  wedded. 

The  ordeal  at  an  end,  the  bridegroom,  under  the 
spur  of  his  new  responsibilities,  recovered  some  con- 
trol of  himself;  and  after  a  short,  stern  discussion, 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  decided  that  he  might 
trust  him  to  get  his  bride  to  Fenchurch  Street  Sta- 
tion without  falling  out  of  the  taxicab.  He  hailed 
one;  Grizel  kissed  Pollyooly  with  very  much  the 
air  of  a  drowning  man  clutching  at  yet  another 
straw;  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  shook  hands  with 
them  and  wished  them  happiness;  they  got  into  the 
taxicab  and  glided  away. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  wiped  his  beaded 
brow  with  an  air  of  extreme  relief.  "Marrying 


LOVE'S    MESSENGER  211 

people  is  a  parlous  job,  Pollyooly,"  he  said,  shaking 
himself  like  a  dog  which  has  just  emerged  from  the 
ocean. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  polite  assent. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  IDEA  OF  THE  DUCHESS 

POLLYOOLY  was  pleased  to  have  played  so 
full  a  part  in  uniting  two  loving  hearts ;  but  she 
could  have  wished  the  process  longer  so  that  she 
could  have  earned  more  money  as  love's  messenger. 
However,  she  was  not  ill  content;  the  affair  had 
swelled  her  bank  account. 

It  was  destined  to  swell  it  yet  further,  for  at 
breakfast  on  the  fourth  morning  after  the  elope- 
ment the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  said  to  her,  "I 
have  news  from  Captain  Croome.  So  far,  at  any 
rate,  we  seem  to  have  no  reason  to  reproach  our- 
selves for  having  married  them.  They  are  still 
happy.  It  is  a  very  comforting  thought." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  gravely. 

"Also  Captain  Croome  has  sent  you  a  check  for 
ten  pounds  to  buy  you  a  brooch  or  a  bracelet,  since 
you  acted  as  bridesmaid ;  and  it  is  the  duty,  or  rather 

212 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  DUCHESS       213 

the  privilege,  of  a  bridegroom  to  make  presents  to 
bridesmaids." 

Pollyooly  smiled  her  most  angelic  smile. 

"If  he  had  been  in  London,  he  would  doubtless 
have  bought  it  for  you  himself.  But  I  am  strongly 
against  his  coming  to  London  yet  a  while — not,  in- 
deed, until  his  mother-in-law  has  had  time  to  cool. 
There  is  a  little  matter  of  false  entry,  which  you 
would  not  understand,  in  his  way.  And  though 
it  is  not  likely  that  Lady  Tullislaith  would  go  to 
the  lengths  of  breaking  off  the  marriage,  it  is  better 
that  she  should  not  be  given  the  chance  of  trying  to 
trouble  love's  young  dream  by  putting  pressure  on 
Captain  Croome." 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  regarded  her  thought- 
fully for  a  minute;  then  he  said,  "I'm  inclined  to 
think  that  it's  a  good  thing  that  Captain  Croome 
isn't  in  town  to  give  you  a  bracelet  or  a  brooch. 
They  are  not  good  investments,  ten-pound  trinkets. 
I  think  you'd  better  add  the  ten  pounds  to  your 
bank  account.  Then  later,  if  you  want  to  buy  a 
ten-pound  bracelet,  you  can  always  do  it." 

"Yes,  sir;  I'd  rather,"  said  Pollyooly  firmly. 


214  POLLYOOLY 

Accordingly  the  check  was  paid  into  Pollyooly's 
Post-Office  Savings  Bank  account.  Then  for  a  while 
her  income  was  reduced  to  the  eleven  shillings  a 
week  she  received  for  her  work  in  the  Temple,  for 
Hilary  Vance  no  longer  required  her  as  a  model 
since  he  had  finished  illustrating  the  set  of  stories 
he  had  been  at  work  on.  Pollyooly  was  not  dis- 
tressed by  this  shrinking  in  her  income.  She  had 
now  a  reserve  fund  on  which  she  and  the  Lump 
could  live  for  nearly  two  years,  even  if  during 
them  she  did  not  earn  a  penny;  and  that  was  very 
unlikely  indeed. 

But  fortune  had  fallen  into  the  way  of  enriching 
Pollyooly ;  and  she  could  not  refrain  from  the  agree- 
able practice  for  long  at  a  time. 

One  afternoon  she  came  back  with  the  Lump 
from  the  gardens  on  the  Thames  Embankment 
rather  later  than  usual;  and  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  called  to  her  from  his  sitting-room : 

"Get  tea  for  two,  please,  Mrs.  Bride ;  and  cut  the 
bread  and  butter  thin." 

Pollyooly  carried  the  Lump  swiftly  up  to  their 
attic,  gave  him  his  woolly  lamb  and  his  unmaned 
horse,  ran  down  the  stairs  to  the  kitchen,  and  set 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  DUCHESS        215 

about  getting  the  tea.     She  was  not  long  about  it, 
and  carried  it  into  the  sitting-room. 

A  lady,  a  beautiful  lady,  beautifully  dressed,  sat 
in  the  arm-chair  facing  the  door.  But  she  was  talk- 
ing earnestly  to  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin;  and 
her  eyes  did  not  rest  on  Pollyooly  till  she  was  setting 
the  tea  on  the  table.  Then  they  opened  wide  in  a 
wild  amazement ;  she  sprang  to  her  feet  and  cried : 

"Why — why  it's  Marion !  Whatever  is  she  doing 
here — in  that  dress  ?" 

"Oh,  no ;  it  isn't  Marion.  Your  partial  maternal 
eyes  deceive  you.  It's  Mrs.  Bride — my  housekeeper. 
I  call  her  Airs.  Bride,  because  she  is  my  house- 
keeper," said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  calmly. 

"But — but  she's  the  very  image  of  Marion,"  said 
the  lady,  staring  at  Pollyooly  with  eyes  still  be- 
wildered. 

"By  Jove!  You're  right;  she  is  like  Marion — 
extraordinarily  like,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  with  more  animation.  "Pollyooly  has  always 
reminded  me  of  some  one ;  and  I  could  never  make 
out  who  it  was.  Of  course  it's  Marion." 

"But  how  is  it  she's  so  like  Marion?"  said  the 
lady. 


216  POLLYOOLY 

"One  of  the  mysteries  of  biology,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  carelessly. 

"But  Marion  belongs — in  looks  at  any  rate — to 
my  side  of  the  family.  She's  a  red  Deeping,"  said 
the  lady. 

"And  that's  what  Pollyooly  is !  Of  course — I  see 
it  now!"  cried  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  the 
triumphant  tones  oi'  a  discoverer.  "Her  great-aunt 
was  Lady  Constantia  Deeping's  housekeeper  at 
Deeping  Hall.  Pollyooly  came  from  Muttle-Deep- 
ing.  It's  wonderful  how  the  old  strains  crop  up 
among  the  village  folk.  You're  a  red  Deeping, 
Pollyooly;  that's  what  you  are." 

"Yes,  sir.  Please,  sir,  what  is  a  red  Deeping?" 
said  Pollyooly,  knitting  her  brow. 

"The  red  Deepings  have  always  been  renowned 
for  the  fieriness  of  their  hair  and  their  tempers — 
a  truculent,  cantankerous  set.  I  must  beware,  I  see. 
I  must  certainly  beware,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"At  the  same  time  there  are  not  many  people  who 
can  boast  of  having  a  red  Deeping  as  housekeeper. 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  DUCHESS       217 

Indeed  I  should  not  wonder  if  I  were  unique,"  he 
said  proudly. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

She  spread  a  little  tea-cloth  on  the  end  of  the  table 
and  set  the  tea  things,  the  bread  and  butter  and  the 
cake  on  it. 

The  lady  talked  quickly  to  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  of  how  Pollyooly  came  to  be  such  an  exact 
red  Deeping;  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  showed  a 
certain  lack  of  interest  in  the  matter.  It  was  enough 
for  him  that  old  strains  did  crop  up  among  the 
village  folk.  He  protested  that  he  was  not  a  scien- 
tific man  to  make  the  biological  researches  necessary 
to  the  complete  elucidation  of  the  fact. 

All  the  while  she  talked,  the  lady's  eyes  never 
moved  from  Polly ooly's  face.  Then  she  cut  herself 
short  in  the  middle  of  a  sentence,  and  cried : 

"John,  I've  got  a  splendid  idea!" 

"Good  heavens !"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

"Yes>  I'm  going  to  get  Marion  all  to  myself  after 
all,"  she  said  triumphantly. 

"No,  Caroline,  you  are  not,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  in  a  tone  of  extreme  severity  and  with 


218  POLLYOOLY 

a  very  dark  frown.  "You  are  not  even  going  to  try. 
The  wigging  you  got  from  Mr.  Justice  Buffle  last 
time  you  carried  off  Marion  has  for  ever  deterred 
you  from  a  second  attempt." 

"Has  it,  though?"  said  the  lady,  and  her  fine  blue 
eyes  flashed  fiercely. 

"Yes,  it  has,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
with  unabated  sternness.  "You  have  made  up  your 
mind  that  a  duchess  can  not  give  the  halfpenny 
press  of  her  country  occasion  to  blaspheme  twice." 

"But  this  is  a  dead  snip,"  said  the  duchess  con- 
fidently. "This  time  I  am  going  to  get  Marion  out 
of  the  country." 

"You  failed  before,  and  you'll  fail  again,"  said 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  firmly. 

"Oh,  no,  I  shan't — not  this  time,"  said  the  duch- 
ess even  more  confidently.  "And  what  does  'it 
matter  if  I  do?  If  they  catch  me,  I  shall  only  get 
the  same  old  wigging.  They  daren't  send  a  duchess 
to  prison.  The  thingumbobs — the  middle  classes — 
wouldn't  stand  it.  They'd  scream." 

"But  you  can't  get  Marion  out  of  the  country. 
The  moment  she's  missing  Osterley's  agents  will 
wire  to  the  police  of  every  port.  I  shouldn't  wonder 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  DUCHESS        219 

if  the  telegrams  are  already  written  out  ready  for 
your  attempt.  They  know  you  so  well.  You  can't 
do  it,"  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  insisted. 

"But  the  joke  is  that  she'll  have  been  out  of  the 
country  days  and  days  before  she  is  missed,"  said 
the  duchess  with  sparkling  eyes;  and  she  laughed 
joyfully. 

"How  will  you  work  that?"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin,  interested. 

The  duchess  turned  to  Pollyooly,  who  had  been 
too  polite  to  leave  the  room,  since  she  was  the  sub- 
ject under  discussion,  and  said  briskly,  "Would 
you  like  twenty  pounds — twenty — gold — sovereigns, 
Pollyooly?" 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Pollyooly  without  the  fifth 
of  a  second's  hesitation. 

"Well,  if  you'll  be  another  little  girl  for  a  fort- 
night, I'll  give  you  twenty  gold  sovereigns.  And 
you'll  live  in  a  beautiful  house  in  the  country  and 
have  lots  of  pets;  and  all  you'll  have  to  do  will  be 
to  pretend  that  you're  another  little — my  little  girl, 
Lady  Marion  Ricksborough.  You'll  have  just  to 
keep  quiet,  and  let  everybody  think  that  you're  her. 
Do  you  understand?" 


220  POLLYOOLY 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Pollyooly,  looking  at  her  with 
shining  eyes,  before  which  once  more  gleamed  the 
vision  of  Eldorado. 

"By  Jove!  What  a  game!  Oh,  woman — 
woman!"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  softly; 
and  he  laughed. 

"Do  you  think  that  she'll  be  able  to  do  it  without 
giving  the  show  away?"  said  the  duchess,  looking  at 
him  anxiously. 

"It's  a  difficult  game,  of  course.  But  if  there's  a 
child  in  England  who  can  play  it,  it's  Pollyooly,"  he 
said  with  decision.  "After  all,  Marion  has  always 
seemed  to  me  a  very  quiet  child ;  and  all  a  little  girl 
is  expected  to  do  is  to  lie  low  and  say  nothing." 

"She  looks  intelligent  enough,"  answered  the 
duchess. 

"A  fertile  mind — full  of  resource,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin. 

"But  what  about  the  Lump,  sir  ?  I  can't  leave  the 
Lump  for  a  whole  fortnight,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly; 
and  the  brightness  began  to  fade  from  her  face. 

"Who  is  the  Lump?"  said  the  duchess  quickly. 

"Another  red  Deeping — her  little  brother, 
Roger,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin.  "But 


o 

PL. 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  DUCHESS       221 

couldn't  your  friend,  Mrs.  Brown,  take  charge  of 
him?" 

"I'll  pay  her  a  pound  a  week,"  said  the  duchess. 

"Oh,  for  a  pound  a  week  she'd  look  after  him 
ever  so  well,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  tone  of  relief. 

"And  I'll  keep  an  eye  on  him,  too,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin.  "Mrs.  Brown  can  bring  him 
round  every  morning  at  breakfast  time  to  be  in- 
spected." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  gratefully. 

"Then  that  settles  that.  You  arrange  it  with  Mrs. 
Brown.  Mind  you  only  tell  her  that  you're  going 
into  the  country.  You  mustn't  tell  her  why.  You 
mustn't  tell  anybody  why,"  said  the  duchess. 

"No,  ma'am,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"And  you  mustn't  mind  if  they  make  a  fuss  at 
Ricksborough  Court  when  you  tell  them  who  you 
are.  They'll  only  scold.  They  won't  do  anything 
serious,"  said  the  duchess. 

"Why  should  she  tell  them?  She  has  only  to  slip 
away  from  Ricksborough,  and  they'll  start  hunting 
for  Marion  from  the  time  and  place  at  which 
Pollyooly  disappears,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin. 


222  POLLYOOLY 

"That's  a  ripping  idea,"  said  the  duchess  with 
grateful  approval.  "They'll  get  on  to  false  scent 
after  false  scent." 

"But  how  are  you  going  to  change  the  children  ? 
That  will  be  the  awkward  part  of  the  business,"  he 
said. 

"Well,  to-morrow,  that  fussy  old  creature,  Mrs. 
Hutton,  brings  Marion  to  spend  her  weekly  after- 
noon with  me,"  said  the  duchess.  "She  takes  her 
back  to  Ricksborough  by  the  six-fifteen  from  Water- 
loo. I'll  tell  Marion  to  look  out  for  you  at  Waterloo. 
As  soon  as  she  sees  you  she  gives  Mrs.  Hutton  the 
slip,  and  you  bring  her  here — " 

"Me?  Me?"  interrupted  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  in  a  terrible  voice.  "Me  ?  After  all  the  years 
I've  kept  out  of  your  quarrels  with  Osterley?  Me?" 
And  he  hammered  with  both  fists  on  his  chest  in  the 
resounding  fashion  of  an  excited  gorilla. 

"Yes,  of  course  you'll  help  me,  John,"  said  the 
duchess  calmly. 

"Blast  a  promising  career — ruin  my  splendid 
chance  of  becoming  lord  chancellor  by  getting  in- 
dicted for  conspiracy  ?  Never !"  he  cried ;  and  again 
he  hammered  away  on  his  chest. 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  DUCHESS  '     223 

Pollyooly  was  much  impressed  by  the  action ;  she 
had  never  seen  him  do  it  before. 

The  duchess  seemed  unaffected  by  it ;  for  she  only 
said  calmly,  "Of  course  you'll  help.  I'm  relying  on 
you.  No  one  will  ever  know." 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  looked  at  her  smiling, 
animated  face,  and  smiled  himself. 

"It  will  be  a  great  game — a  great  game,  Car- 
oline," he  said. 

"Won't  it  ?"  said  the  duchess. 

"I  should  like  to  see  Osterley's  face  if  he  ever 
tumbles  to  it,"  he  said;  and  he  laughed  with  ver- 
itable glee. 

"So  should  I,"  said  the  duchess  in  a  vindictive 
tone. 

"Well,  well,  I've  always  thought  it  an  infernal 
shame  that  you  didn't  get  the  custody  of  Marion. 
This  is  a  chance  of  a  lifetime  to  repair  a  miscarriage 
of  justice.  I'm  with  you,  Caroline,"  he  said  with 
a  splendid  air. 

"If  you'll  stand  by  me,  I'm  sure  we  shall  pull  it 
off,"  said  the  duchess  with  joj'ous  conviction. 

Over  their  tea  they  fell  to  discussing  the  details, 
and  had  perfected  the  duchess'  plan,  when  the  Hon- 


224  POLLYOOLY 

orable  John  Ruffin  clapped  his  hand  to  his  head  and 
cried  in  a  tone  of  horror: 

"Good  heavens!   I  was  forgetting!   My  bacon!" 

"Your  what  ?"  said  the  startled  duchess. 

"My  bacon.  Pollyooly  is  the  one  person  in  Eng- 
land— in  the  world — who  can  grill  bacon  properly. 
I  am  losing  her  for  a  fortnight — a  whole  fortnight 
— fourteen  breakfasts." 

"There  are  other  things  besides  bacon,"  said  the 
duchess  somewhat  coldly. 

"There  are  no  other  things  besides  bacon — not 
for  breakfast,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  bit- 
terly, but  with  intense  conviction.  Then  by  a 
violent  effort  he  pulled  himself  together  and  said 
with  an  air  of  manly  fortitude:  "But  no  matter; 
I  am  a  martyr — a  martyr  in  the  cause  of  justice. 
Oh,  that  a  barrister  should  prove  so  faithless  to  the 
Law!" 

The  duchess  smiled  indulgently  and  said,  "I'm 
ever  so  much  obliged  to  you.  I  am  really.  Well,  I 
think  that's  all  that  we  can  do  now.  Wasn't  it 
lucky  I  came  to  see  how  you  were  getting  on?" 

"Oh,  it  was!  Fourteen  breakfasts!"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Rnffin  bitterly. 


THE  IDEA  OF  THE  DUCHESS       225 

The  duchess  laughed,  kissed  Pollyooly,  and  bade 
her  good-by;  and  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  with 
an  air  of  proud  gloom,  escorted  her  out  of  the 
Temple  and  put  her  into  a  taxicab. 

On  his  return  he  said  to  Pollyooly,  who  was  clear- 
ing away  the  tea :  "You've  taken  on  a  difficult  job, 
Pollyooly.  But  I  believe  that  you're  the  one  child 
in  England  who  could  carry  it  through.  You  don't 
get  flurried." 

"Yes,  sir.  I  shall  try,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with 
the  smile  of  a  resolute  angel. 

"And  if  it  were  a  less  serious  matter  than  giving 
a  child  back  to  her  mother,  I  wouldn't  let  you  at- 
tempt it,"  he  said  gravely. 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Now,  the  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  sit  tight  and 
keep  your  eyes  wide  open — very  wide  open." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly;  and  she  opened  her 
eyes  very  wide,  as  if  to  practise. 

"You  let  the  other  people  do  the  talking." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  hope  I  shan't  have  to  tell  a  lot  of 
lies,"  said  Pollyooly  anxiously,  with  a  sudden  re- 
membrance of  the  oft-repeated  teaching  of  her  Aunt 
Hannah. 


226  POLLYOOLY 

"You  won't  if  yon  let  the  other  people  do  the 
talking." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with  an  air  of  relief. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  gazed  at  her  thought- 
fully. "It's  a  wonderful  thing  how  some  people  fill 
long-felt  wants  and  others  don't,"  he  said  gravely. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  polite  assent. 

"Now,  look  at  me :  I  was  educated  at  Eton  and 
Balliol  College,  Oxford ;  yet  I  assure  you,  Pollyooly, 
that  never  once  has  any  one  asked  me  to  act  as 
changeling  for  them,"  he  said  sadly. 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with  grave  sympathy. 


CHAPTER  VII 

POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  THE  CHANGELING 

POLLYOOLY  was  very  busy  next  morning. 
She  arranged  with  Mrs.  Brown  that  she  should 
take  charge  of  the  Lump  for  two  weeks  at  a  pound 
a  week,  and  also  that  she  should  act  during  that 
period  as  laundress  to  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
and  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins. 

Naturally,  Mrs.  Brown  was  exceedingly  curious 
to  know  the  reasons  of  Pollyooly's  so  sudden  jour- 
ney; but  all  she  learned  was  that  Pollyooly  was 
going  into  the  country  to  do  something  for  a  lady, 
and  her  mission  was  secret  and  might  not  be  told. 

"It's  wunnerful  how  you  do  git  jobs,  Pollyooly," 
said  Mrs.  Brown  in  a  marveling  tone ;  and  with  that 
she  let  the  matter  rest. 

At  breakfast  she  recommended  Mrs.  Brown  to 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin;  and  on  that  recom- 
mendation he  accepted  her. 

227 


228  POLLYOOLY 

But  he  shook  his  head  and  said  sadly,  "She  will 
do  her  best,  I've  no  doubt.  But  I  dare  not  think  of 
my  bacon.  I  shall  buy  a  calendar  and  mark  off  the 
days  till  your  return." 

After  breakfast  he  said,  "And  now  I'll  go  and 
break  the  news  of  your  departure  to  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins.  I  hope  he  will  not  weep,  for  I  have  read 
in  many  books  that  a  strong  man's  tears  are  ter- 
rible." 

"I  don't  think  that  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  will  cry, 
sir,"  said  Pollyooly  hopefully.  "I  shouldn't  think 
he  ever  cried." 

"Let  us  hope  not,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  gloomily.  "But  I  shall  cry.  I  shall  cry  on 
my  bacon  at  breakfast  to-morrow  morning.  I 
shall  salt  it  with  my  tears." 

"I've  told  Mrs.  Brown  how  you  like  it  done,  sir," 
said  Pollyooly. 

"What  is  telling?"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  sternly.  "Bacon-grillers  are  like  poets— 
nascuntur  non  fiunt." 

"It's  only  for  a  fortnight,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Only— ha,  ha !  Only !"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  in  a  deep,  tragical  voice. 


•POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING    229 

He  went  into  the  chambers  of  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins  and  knocked  at  his  sitting-room  door.  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins,  in  a  gruff  voice,  bade  him  enter, 
and  surveyed  him,  on  his  entrance,  with  cold,  disap- 
proving eyes. 

"Good  morning,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
in  his  most  amiable  tone.  "I've  arranged  for  Mary 
Bride  to  get  away  into  the  country  for  a  fortnight. 
She's  looking  pale;  and  fresh  air  will  do  her  good. 
I  hope  you  don't  mind.  It  was  all  arranged  on  the 
spur  of  the  moment,  and  there  was  no  time  to  con- 
sult you." 

"M'm:  what  am  I  to  do  for  a  laundress?"  said 
Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  not  at  all  ungraciously. 

"Well,  I  have  a  very  respectable  woman  coming 
in  to  look  after  me.  She  could  do  for  you,  too,  if 
you  like." 

"Does  she  drink?"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins 
quickly,  as  a  vision  of  Mrs.  Meeken  rose  before  the 
eyes  of  his  mind. 

"Certainly  not.  She's  the  wife  of  a  policeman," 
said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  with  decision. 

"Is  she?  Then  if  you  get  a  chance  you  might 
hint  to  her  that  I  do  not  mind  her  drinking  my 


230  POLLYOOLY 

whisky — in  moderation — but  I  do  object  to  her 
watering  it,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  cynically. 

"Certainly — certainly — I'll  make  it  quite  clear  to 
her,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  readily. 

"Right.  And  I'll  pay  half  Pollyooly's  trip,"  said 
Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  gruffly. 

"Oh,  a  lady's  paying  all  that,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  cheerfully.  "It's  very  good  of  you  not 
to  put  any  obstacle  in  the  way  of  her  going." 

"Not  at  all — not  at  all,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins 
gruffly. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  returned  to  his  cham- 
bers and  informed  Pollyooly  of  his  colleague's 
urbanity ;  and  when  she  brought  in  his  breakfast  to 
Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins,  she  thanked  him  herself.  He 
said  that  he  hoped  that  the  change  would  do  her 
good;  and  as  he  was  starting  for  the  Law  Courts, 
he  gave  her  five  shillings  and  gruffly  bade  her  buy 
something  useful  with  it. 

Pollyooly  was  touched  by  this  mark  of  his  appre- 
ciation, for  he  had  always  been  silent  with  her.  She 
thought  it  well  to  take  the  money  with  her  in  case 
she  should  in  some  emergency  need  it. 

At  three  o'clock  that  afternoon  she  took  the  Lump 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING   231 

to  Mrs.  Brown  and  left  him  with  her.  It  was 
indeed  a  wrench  parting  with  him,  for  they  had 
never  before  been  separated  for  as  long  as  four 
hours  at  a  time  since  the  day  he  was  born.  Though 
she  knew  that  Mrs.  Brown  would  look  after  him 
as  the  apple  of  her  eye  and  she  had  no  fears  for  his 
well-being,  she  came  away  from  him  with  a  very 
sad  heart,  hating  the  need  to  earn  twenty  pounds, 
which  severed  them.  The  shining  vision  of  El- 
dorado was  blurred. 

At  a  quarter  to  six  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
set  out  to  Waterloo  Station.  At  five  minutes  to 
six  the  duchess  arrived  at  his  chambers,  very  anx- 
ious, nervous,  excited.  She  walked  up  and  down 
the  room  and  at  intervals  she  said,  "Oh,  I  do  hope 
he  won't  make  a  mess  of  it !  .  .  .  I  hope  nothing's 
going  wrong !  .  .  .  That  clock  in  the  tower  there 
moves  slower  than  any  clock  I  ever  saw!" 

Pollyooly,  confident  of  the  wisdom  and  resource 
of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  stood  at  the  window, 
unruffled  and  serene. 

She  was  very  patient  with  the  excited  duchess, 
and  at  intervals  she  said,  "Mr.  Ruffin  is^ure  to  bring 
her." 


232  POLLYOOLY 

In  her  heart  of  hearts  she  was  wishing  that  he 
might  make  a  mess  of  it.  She  would  lose  the  twenty 
pounds  indeed;  but  she  would  not  be  parted  from 
the  Lump. 

Then  at  a  quarter  past  six  a  taxicab  came  fast 
along  Paper  Buildings;  and  in  it  she  saw  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  and  a  little  girl. 

"Here  they  are,  ma'am,"  she  said  in  a  tone  of 
resignation. 

The  duchess  rushed  to  the  window,  saw  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  and  Lady  Marion  descend  from 
the  taxicab,  and  ran  half-way  down  the  stairs  to 
meet  them. 

Then  Pollyooly's  double  came  into  the  sitting- 
room,  and  the  two  children  stared  at  each  other  seri- 
ously, with  the  keenest  curiosity. 

At  once  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  set  them  side 
by  side  to  assure  himself  of  the  likeness. 

"By  Jove,  it's  wonderful!"  he  cried.  "Wonder- 
ful!" 

The  likeness  was  wonderful.  By  some  curious 
freak  of  nature,  Marion  was  Pollyooly's  double. 
She  was  the  same  length,  breadth,  and  thickness; 
she  carried  herself  in  the  same  fashion;  she  had 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING   233 

Pollyooly's  red  hair  to  a  shade;  she  had  her  white 
skin  and  blue  eyes;  she  had  her  delicate  features. 
It  was  only  when  you  looked  at  her  closely  that  you 
perceived  that  she  was  but  an  inferior  copy  of  Polly- 
ooly.  Her  hair  lacked  the  luster  of  Pollyooly's; 
it  was  duller  and  less  abundant.  Her  skin  was  not 
of  so  fine  a  texture  as  Pollyooly's,  and  lacked  its 
translucence.  Her  eyes  were  blue,  but  not  of  the 
intense  deep  blue  of  Pollyooly's.  Her  features  were 
like,  but  Nature  had  molded  them  with  a  clumsier 
hand,  and  she  lacked  wholly  Pollyooly's  angelic  ex- 
pression. But  you  could  only  see  these  differences 
by  a  close  scrutiny  of  the  children  together.  Take 
either  of  them  apart,  and  she  was  Pollyooly,  or 
Lady  Marion  Ricksborough,  according  as  you  found 
her  in  the  King's  Bench  Walk  or  at  Ricksborough 
Court. 

Having  once  satisfied  themselves  of  the  likeness, 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  and  the  duchess  lost  no 
time.  With  the  duchess  as  maid,  the  children  had 
exchanged  every  stitch  of  their  clothing  in  less  than 
five  minutes.  Then  Pollyooly  was  truly  Lady 
Marion  Deeping,  and  Marion  was  Pollyooly;  there 
was  no  doubt  about  it.  The  duchess  kissed  Polly- 


234  POLLYOOLY 

ooly,  and  wished  her  good  luck.  The  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  hurried  her  down  the  stairs,  out  of  the 
Temple  into  Fleet  Street,  into  a  taxicab,  and  they 
drove  off  to  Waterloo. 

As  the  cab  started  he  said,  "Everything  has  gone 
right  so  far.  All  you've  got  to  do  at  the  station  is 
to  stand  still,  and  a  policeman  will  recognize  you 
and  take  you  to  Mrs.  Hutton.  Mrs.  Hutton's  your 
maid — you'll  call  her  'Hutton.'  Then  you  under- 
stand what  you've  got  to  do  is  to  sit  tight,  and  let 
the  other  people  do  the  talking." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Marion's  a  fairly  silent  child,  I  believe,  so  no 
one  will  notice  any  change,"  he  said  thoughtfully. 
"And  if  she  isn't  there,  as  a  test,  they'll  hardly  see 
that  she  has  suddenly — very  suddenly — grown  much 
better  looking." 

"No,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"But  of  course  you  won't  be  able  to  keep  silent 
all  the  time;  and  when  you  do  have  to  speak,  give 
yourself  airs — plenty  of  airs.  Remember  that 
you're  no  longer  my  housekeeper,  but  Lady  Marion 
Ricksborough,"  he  said  earnestly. 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING    235 

''Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  firmly. 

"In  fact  be  what  you  are — a  red  Deeping.  Be  a 
scarlet  Deeping,  if  you  can." 

"Yes,  sir;  I  will.  I— I— should  like  to,"  said 
Pollyooly  with  a  resolute  smile. 

"That's  the  right  spirit,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of 
warm  approval.  "And  about  getting  away.  I'll 
meet  you  at  half-past  two  at  the  top  of  Ricksbor- 
ough  home-wood.  You'll  easily  find  out  where 
that  is.  I  shall  wait  till  half-past  four.  If  you're 
not  there  that  day,  I  shall  come  the  day  after  that 
and  the  day  after  that." 

"I  shall  be  there  the  first  day,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly 
with  a  resolute  air,  thinking  of  the  Lump. 

"I  think  you  will.  But  don't  take  any  risks,"  he 
said,  smiling  at  her.  "And  one  last  word :  make  the 
best  of  the  country  and  the  fresh  air,  and  put  on 
weight." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

Half-way  between  Waterloo  Bridge  and  the  sta- 
tion he  stopped  the  cab,  and  they  got  out  of  it.  She 
walked  on,  and  he  followed  her,  keeping  twenty 
yards  behind. 


236  POLLYOOLY 

In  this  order  they  came  into  the  station;  and 
near  the  booking-office  she  stopped 

She  had  stood  there  barely  three  minutes,  when 
one  of  the  railway  policemen  gazed  at  her  earnestly, 
bounded  up  to  her  and  cried,  "Are  you  Lady  Ricks- 
borough — Lady  Marion  Ricksborough  ?" 

"What  business  is  it  of  yours?"  said  Pollyooly 
truculently.  "Where's  my  maid — Hutton?" 

"I  beg  pardon,  your  ladyship,  but  we've  been 
'untin'  everywhere  for  your  ladyship.  If  your  lady- 
ship will  come  to  the  superintendent's  hoffices,  you'll 
find  your  maid,"  said  the  policeman. 

Pollyooly  followed  him  haughtily. 

As  he  entered  the  superintendent's  office,  he  cried 
triumphantly,  "I've  found  'er!  'Ere  she  is!" 

Clerks  sprang  from  their  desks  and  gathered 
round  her.  The  superintendent  himself  leaped 
lithely  out  of  an  inner  office  and  asked  her  where 
she  had  been. 

"Looking  at  London,"  said  Pollyooly  curtly. 

Seeing  that  for  a  long  while  she  had  not  set  eyes 
on  any  portion  of  the  earth's  surface,  this  was 
literally  true. 

The  policeman  was  despatched  to  the  north  sta- 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING   237 

tion,  whither  Mrs.  Hutton  had  repaired  in  the 
course  of  her  search.  The  clerks  gloated  over  Polly- 
ooly  with  respectful  admiration  induced  in  them 
by  her  rank,  then,  they  went  back  to  their  work. 
Pollyooly  sat  down  and  waited  for  her  maid. 

In  a  few  minutes  Mrs.  Hutton,  a  buxom,  round- 
faced  woman  of  fifty  summers,  arrived,  purple,  flus- 
tered and  vociferous.  She  enlarged  on  her  terrors 
and  exertions,  on  the  fact  that  they  had  missed  their 
train,  on  her  ignorance  of  what  his  grace  would  say 
when  he  heard  of  his  daughter's  escapade.  Then 
she  inquired  what  Pollyooly  had  been  doing  during 
the  half-hour  that  she  had  been  missing. 

"Looking  at  London,"  said  Pollyooly  with  cold 
curtness. 

They  had  not  long  to  wait  for  a  train,  and  Polly- 
ooly enjoyed  the  journey  through  the  country  ex- 
ceedingly. She  had  not  known  how  much  she  had 
been  missing  it  during  the  two  years  she  had  lived 
in  London.  Once  or  twice,  indeed,  the  prettier 
pieces  of  scenery  were  a  little  blurred  by  the  tears 
which  rose  to  her  eyes.  If  only  the  Lump  were  with 
her. 

Half-way  to  Ricksborough,  Mrs.  Hutton,  who 


238  POLLYOOLY 

seemed  to  have  at  last  recovered  from  the  shock, 
told  the  entirely  indifferent  Pollyooly  that  if  she 
behaved  very  nicely  during  the  next  three  days,  she 
would  not  tell  the  duke  of  her  escapade  at  Waterloo. 
But  had  Pollyooly  behaved  like  a  Borgia  during 
those  three  days,  Mrs.  Hutton  would  not  have  told 
of  it,  for  she  would  have  got  into  serious  trouble 
herself  for  letting  her  charge  give  her  the  slip.  In- 
deed, she  would  certainly  have  been  discharged. 

In  this  way  it  came  about  that  neither  the  Duke 
of  Osterley  nor  Lady  Salkeld,  the  widowed  sister 
who  kept  house  for  him,  knew  that  there  had  been 
any  break  in  the  continuity  of  their  possession  of 
Marion;  and  Miss  Marlow,  Marion's  governess, 
enjoyed  an  equal  ignorance. 

Pollyooly  enjoyed  the  drive  in  the  motor-car  from 
the  station  to  the  court  even  more  than  the  railway 
journey.  But  for  all  her  wonted  courage,  she  went 
up  the  broad  steps  and  into  the  great  hall  on  falter- 
ing feet. 

Only  a  butler  and  footman  were  in  it;  and  they 
looked  at  her  with  careless  eyes.  If  they  had  been 
men  of  any  observation,  they  would  have  been 
surprised  by  the  behavior  of  the  half-dozen  dogs  of 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING    239 

different  sizes  which  were  in  the  hall.  They  all 
came  forward  to  greet  Pollyooly,  but  they  greeted 
her  with  the  cautious  sniffs  of  investigators,  rather 
than  with  the  tail-waggings  of  intimate  friends. 
Fortunately,  neither  the  butler,  nor  the  footman,  nor 
Mrs.  Hutton,  were  observant  persons. 

Pollyooly  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  go  to  her  own 
suite  of  rooms,  and  that  \vas  hardly  to  be  wondered 
at,  since  she  did  not  know  that  she  had  a  suite  of 
rooms  to  go  to,  much  less  where  it  was.  She  lin- 
gered till  Mrs.  Hutton  had  given  the  butler  her  im- 
pressions of  the  condition  of  London  that  day,  then 
she  followed  her  up-stairs,  and  without  knowing  it, 
that  good  woman  acted  as  guide  to  that  suite. 

There,  in  her  sitting-room,  Pollyooly  found  Miss 
Marlow,  her  governess — a  mild  and  sentimental-, 
looking  lady  of  thirty-five — who  greeted  her  tepidly, 
and  enlarged  on  the  discomfort  of  a  journey  to  Lon- 
don on  such  a  hot  day.  Mindful  of  the  advice  of 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  Pollyooly  let  her  talk,  an 
exercise  to  which  she  seemed  not  at  all  disinclined. 

Pollyooly  escaped  from  her  presently,  and  went 
out  into  the  gardens,  where  she  would  have  been 
entirely  happy  but  for  the  thought  that  the  Lump 


240  POLLYOOLY 

was  not  there  to  share  her  pleasure.  She  wandered 
about  them,  full  of  delight  and  admiration.  Three 
dogs,  of  shapes  strange  to  her,  joined  her  and  ac- 
companied her  on  her  wanderings. 

Later,  a  footman  summoned  her  in  to  her  supper, 
and  at  the  summons  she  realized  that  she  had  al- 
ready derived  a  very  keen  appetite  from  the  country 
air.  The  three  dogs,  who  had  been  growing  more 
and  more  respectful  and  friendly,  accompanied  her 
to  her  suite  of  rooms. 

Miss  Marlow  was  awaiting  her,  and  at  the  sight 
of  her  following  she  said  in  some  surprise,  "Why, 
I  thought  you  didn't  like  dogs,  Marion." 

Pollyooly  hesitated  a  moment,  then  she  said,  "I've 
changed  my  mind." 

Miss  Marlow  graced  the  meal  with  a  gentle  flow 
of  conversation,  in  which  she  did  not  seem  to  expect 
Pollyooly  to  take  any  active  part.  Pollyooly  con- 
fined herself  to  saying  "yes,"  or  "no,"  when  Miss 
Marlow  paused. 

It  seemed  to  her,  indeed,  that  conversation  at  such 
an  excellent  meal,  with  foods  so  varying  and  so 
appetizing  to  tax  her  powers  of  appreciation,  was 
somewhat  superfluous. 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING    241 

She  went  to  bed  soon  after  supper  and  was  up  and 
out  betimes.  She  left  the  trim  gardens  for  the  home- 
wood,  and  was  happier  than  ever  exploring  it.  Five 
dogs  accompanied  her,  and  fortunately  the  keepers 
had  gone  home  to  breakfast.  Hunger  informed  her 
of  her  own  breakfast-hour;  she  breakfasted  with 
Miss  Marlow,  and  made  a  hearty  and  delicious  meal. 
Never  before  had  it  fallen  to  her  lot  to  spread  jam 
on  her  bread  and  butter,  as  much  jam  as  ever  she 
wanted — and  such  jam.  Miss  Marlow  had  indeed 
reason  to  remark  on  the  excellence  of  her  appetite. 

At  ten  o'clock  lessons  began,  and  there  Pollyooly 
made  her  first  slip.  She  had  passed  all  seven  stand- 
ards at  the  Muttle-Deeping  school,  and  it  never  oc- 
curred to  her  that  the  daughter  of  a  duke  would 
not  possess  the  learning  she  had  acquired.  She  as- 
tonished Miss  Marlow  by  a  display  of  knowledge 
for  which  there  was  really  no  accounting.  For- 
tunately, Miss  Marlow  was  not  intelligent,  and  she 
set  down  this  sudden  advance  to  some  unexpected 
and,  indeed,  uncommon  development  of  her  charge's 
intellect.  But  her  astonishment  warned  Pollyooly 
of  her  mistake,  and  she  proceeded  to  move  along  the 
path  of  learning  at  a  much  slower  pace. 


242  POLLYOOLY 

After  lessons  she  went  for  a  walk  with  Miss 
Marlow  and  six  dogs.  The  dogs  relieved  the  dull- 
ness of  Miss  Mario w's  vapid,  but  unceasing,  talk. 
Pollyooly  lunched  with  Lady  Salkeld,  who  greeted 
her  with  a  tepidness  like  Miss  Marlow's,  and  since 
some  friends  had  motored  over  to  lunch,  paid  no 
more  attention  to  her.  Pollyooly  was  relieved  by 
this  lack  of  attention;  it  enabled  her  to  devote  all 
her  mind  to  the  food  and  her  table  manners,  which, 
thanks  to  her  Aunt  Hannah's  acquaintance  with 
customs  of  the  great,  were  good  enough  to  pass 
muster.  Tea  and  supper  she  took  with  the  unob- 
servant Miss  Marlow  in  her  own  sitting-room.  She 
went  to  bed  that  night  with  an  easy  mind;  so  far, 
she  was  sure,  no  suspicion  whatever  that  she  was  a 
changeling  had  entered  any  one's  mind. 

The  next  day,  also,  nothing  occurred  to  disquiet 
her.  It  was  not  unnatural,  for  the  last  thing  that 
would  occur  to  any  one  was  that  nature  had  been 
peculiarly  prolific  of  Lady  Marion  Ricksborough. 
Besides,  no  one  had  been  greatly  interested  in 
Marion.  It  was  not  as  if  she  had  been  a  boy  and  heir 
to  the  dukedom.  Pollyooly  began  to  understand 
that  her  double  had  led  a  somewhat  lonely  life. 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING    243 

This  general  lack  of  interest  in  her  made  her 
task  much  easier:  none  the  less,  it  was  a  difficult 
one  for  a  child  of  twelve.  There  were  so  many 
things  to  learn — the  names  of  the  dogs  and  the  serv- 
ants, of  Lady  Salkeld's  cats;  her  way  about  the 
court;  the  places  in  which  Marion  kept  her  posses- 
sions. She  had  to  learn  them  without  letting  any 
one  of  the  family  or  the  servants  perceive  that  she 
was  learning  them.  The  need  for  perpetual  wari- 
ness was  trying. 

Now  and  again,  of  course,  in  spite  of  the  faith- 
fulness with  which  she  followed  the  instructions  of 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  to  let  other  people  do 
the  talking,  she  did  make  a  slip,  displaying  an 
ignorance  of  some  familiar  fact  which  should  have 
astounded  those  about  her.  It  was  fortunate,  in- 
deed, that  she  had  to  do  with  unobservant  persons. 
The  servants  were  her  chief  danger;  and  she  felt  it. 
By  the  circumstances  of  their  life  they  had  to  be 
more  observant.  But  with  them  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin's  other  injunction  to  be  a  red  Deeping  and 
give  herself  airs,  stood  her  in  good  stead.  They, 
too,  were  not  interested  in  Marion,  and  though  they 
noticed  this  change,  it  was  not  of  a  kind  to  awake 


244  POLLYOOLY 

their  suspicions.  With  them  Pollyooly  was  at  times 
almost  truculent. 

More  than  once,  in  the  secrecy  of  the  house- 
keeper's room,  Mrs.  Hutton  said  gloomily:  "I 
don't  know  what's  come  to  that  there  Marion.  She's 
taken  to  giving  herself  such  airs  that  there's  no  do- 
ing anything  with  her.  The  way  she  orders  me 
about,  she  might  be  twenty." 

"Lady  Marion's  a  red  Deeping;  and  they're  like 
that.  And,  what's  more,  she's  getting  to  the  age 
when  it  comes  out,"  said  the  housekeeper  sagely. 

In  spite  of  the  trying  need  for  continuous  wari- 
ness, Pollyooly  was  enjoying  her  stay  in  the  country 
beyond  all  words.  Her  pleasure  was  only  marred 
by  the  frequent  thought  that  the  Lump  was  not  with 
her  to  share  it;  the  desire  for  him  was  persistent. 
She  would  have  liked  also  a  companion  of  her  own 
age ;  but  the  dogs  proved  fairly  efficient  substitutes. 
They  attached  themselves  to  her  to  a  dog.  Firmly 
and  with  devotion,  big  dogs  and  little  dogs,  they  ac- 
companied her  on  all  her  excursions. 

They  were  not,  indeed,  welcome  in  the  woods, 
and  were  the  occasion  of  her  displaying  her  best 
red  Deeping  manner  to  an  under-keeper,  who  had 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING    245 

the  fond  idea  that  so  much  noise  was  not  good  for 
his  sacred,  but  nesting,  pheasants. 

Pollyooly  felt  very  strongly  that  it  was  the  in- 
alienable right  of  a  daughter  of  a  duke  to  disturb 
nesting  pheasants  if  she  wanted  to;  and  before  she 
had  done  with  him,  the  keeper  felt  it  too.  The  feel- 
ing that  she  was  the  daughter  of  a  duke  was  grow- 
ing on  her  and  changing  her.  Before  coming  to 
Ricksborough  Court  she  had  always  been  able,  with- 
out an  effort,  to  assume  a  most  truculent  air ;  but  for 
the  most  part,  she  had  looked  a  gentle,  angel  child. 
Now  though  she  remained  the  angel  child,  under  the 
influence  of  the  excellent  food  and  fresh  air,  she 
was  growing  the  angel  child  with  an  air  of  serene 
confidence  in  herself  and  her  destiny. 

It  was  on  the  fifth  day  of  her  stay  that  a  new 
disquieting  figure,  the  first  real  menace  to  her  se- 
curity, came  to  the  court.  The  duke  was  to  arrive 
at  four  o'clock ;  and  Mrs.  Hutton  dressed  Pollyooly 
in  a  somewhat  too  elaborate  frock  of  amber  silk 
to  have  tea  with  him  and  Lady  Salkeld. 

When  Pollyooly  came  into  the  drawing-room, 
she  found  not  only  the  duke,  but  also  his  nephew 
and  heir,  Lord  Ronald  Ricksborough,  a  dark,  good- 


246  POLLYOOLY 

looking  boy  of  fourteen,  of  an  almost  girlish  deli- 
cacy of  complexion.  The  duke,  a  dapper  little  thin- 
lipped  man  of  thirty-five  with  a  small,  unhappy 
drab  mustache  with  which  he  for  ever  fidgeted, 
gave  her  an  indifferent  glance  and  protruded  two 
limp  fingers.  Pollyooly  shook  them  gingerly.  Ron- 
ald shook  hands  with  her  in  a  somewhat  perfunc- 
tory and  condescending  fashion. 

Then  another  new-comer,  a  fox-terrier,  came  for- 
ward and  sniffed  at  her  skirts  with  an  air  of  in- 
quiring doubt. 

:  Their  elders,  who  were  talking  to  one  another, 
did  not  observe  it;  but  Ronald  said  in  a  tone  of 
great  astonishment,  "Why,  what's  the  matter  with 
.Wiggs?  He's  pretending  he  doesn't  know  Marion." 

It  seemed  to  Pollyooly  that  now,  if  ever,  was 
the  time  for  airs;  she  drew  herself  up  and  said 
scornfully:  "He's  a  silly  dog." 

"That  he  isn't!  He's  one  of  the  most  intelligent 
dogs  in  the  world ;  and  you  know  it  as  well  as  I  do," 
said  Ronald  hotly. 

"He's  not  intelligent  now,  anyhow,"  said  Polly- 
ooly coldly. 

"He  must  be  kidding,"   said   Ronald;   but  he 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING    247 

looked  with  a  puzzled  air  from  Wiggs  to  Pollyooly 
and  from  Pollyooly  to  Wiggs. 

Pollyooly  felt  that  she  would  have  to  be  very 
careful  indeed  in  his  presence,  and  she  made  up  her 
mind  to  have  as  little  to  do  with  him  as  possible. 
At  tea  she  only  gave  the  shortest  answers  to  his 
questions,  and  seemed  to  be  sulking.  After  tea  she 
changed  her  frock  and  slipped  away  to  the  home- 
wood. 

But  she  soon  learned  that  it  would  be  difficult  to 
avoid  him,  for  he  took  his  breakfast,  tea  and  supper 
with  her  and  Miss  Marlow ;  and  at  lunch  he  sat  be- 
side Pollyooly. 

To  remain  silent  was  foreign  to  his  nature,  and 
she  found  his  talk  awkward  to  deal  with,  for  it  was 
full  of  allusions  to  events  which  had  happened  dur- 
ing his  last  holidays  in  which  they  had  both  taken 
part.  Sometimes  she  extricated  herself  successfully 
from  her  difficulties ;  sometimes  she  did  not.  He  fell 
into  the  way  of  regarding  her  with  a  puzzled  air 
which  sometimes  disquieted  her  exceedingly. 

One  morning  at  breakfast,  after  one  of  her  fail- 
ures, he  said  to  Miss  Marlow :  "Marion's  memory's 
getting  jolly  bad." 


248  POLLYOOLY 

"Then  it's  like  your  manners,"  said  Pollyooly,  ex- 
ercising the  somewhat  dangerous  gift  of  retort  she 
had  acquired  during  her  two  years'  residence  in  Al- 
satia. 

"Now  last  holidays  you'd  never  have  said  a  thing 
like  that.  You  weren't  a  bit  cheeky,"  said  Ronald ; 
and  he  looked  at  her  with  the  disquieting,  puzzled 
air. 

"Cheeky  yourself,"  said  Pollyoofy  with  some 
heat. 

"I  think  you've  changed  tremendously,"  said  Ron- 
ald. "Don't  you  think  she's  changed,  Miss  Mar- 
low?" 

"I  think  her  intelligence  is  improving,"  said  Miss 
Marlow. 

"I  don't  think  it's  only  that,"  said  Ronald  doubt- 
fully. "She  looks  different.  Her  skin  is  clearer  and 
her  eyes  are  bluer." 

"We  all  change,"  said  Miss  Marlow  sapiently. 

Pollyooly  said  nothing. 

She  grew  more  and  more  alive  to  her  danger,  and 
she  found  him  more  and  more  difficult  to  avoid. 
The  fancy  took  him,  in  default  of  other  companion- 
ship, to  spend  more  and  more  of  his  time  with  her; 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING   249 

and  the  fancy  was  much  strengthened  by  her  plain 
desire  that  he  should  do  nothing  of  the  kind.  That 
desire  also  surprised  him,  for  he  had  been  used  to 
regard  Marion  as  a  respectful  admirer.  Pollyooly 
could  not  indeed  make  it  as  clear  as  she  would  have 
liked,  that  she  did  not  desire  his  companionship ;  her 
natural  politeness  forbade  it. 

It  was  not  only  the  danger  that  made  her  shun 
him,  it  was  also  her  deeply  ingrained  distrust  of 
boys  in  general.  To  her  they  were  a  savage  tribe, 
who  pulled  your  hair  when  you  were  not  looking,  or 
when  you  were:  a  tribe  which  rudely  called  you 
"Ginger." 

As  she  came  to  see  more  of  Ronald  she  was  great- 
ly surprised  to  find  that  he  lacked  the  barbarous 
hair-pulling  habit.  To  her  even  greater  surprise, 
he  was  most  of  the  time  courteous.  She  was  the 
less  surprised  therefore  to  find  herself,  at  the  end  of 
a  couple  of  days  of  his  society,  regarding  an  indubi- 
table boy  with  approval,  even  with  liking.  She 
began  to  find  the  task  of  deceiving  him  not  only 
trying  but  also  somewhat  ungrateful. 

For  his  part,  he  was  most  agreeably  surprised 
by  the  changes  in  his  cousin.  She  had  acquired  an 


250  POLLYOOLY 

untiring  activity  which  she  had  before  utterly 
lacked ;  she  displayed  a  very  quick  and  observant  in- 
telligence; she  entered  into  all  his  pursuits,  except 
riding,  with  a  zest  which  made  her  an  admirable 
comrade. 

But  for  all  Pollyooly's  wariness,  when  they  were 
together,  Ronald's  face  was  never  for  long  free 
from  its  puzzled  air.  She  could  not  help  the  occa- 
sional display  of  an  astounding  ignorance.  Above 
everything  the  changed  behavior  of  the  dogs  puzzled 
him. 

One  day  he  said,  "It's  no  good.  I  can't  under- 
stand these  dogs.  You  used  to  say  that  you  didn't 
like  dogs;  but  the  thing  was  that  the  dogs  didn't 
like  you.  They  didn't  find  you  sporting  enough." 

"Well,  now  they  do.  We  all  change :  Miss  Mar- 
low  said  so,"  said  Pollyooly  quickly. 

"Yes,  but  such  a  change  in  such  a  little  time.  You 
were  quite  different  last  time  I  was  here,"  said 
Ronald,  frowning. 

Pollyooly  said  nothing.  She  seemed  quite  uninter- 
ested in  the  matter. 

"And  there  are  the  other  things,"  said  Ronald, 
looking  at  her  with  an  almost  worried  air. 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING   251 

Pollyooly  did  not  ask  what  they  were ;  her  limpid 
blue  eyes  were  scanning  the  surrounding  country. 

Sometimes  he  would  deliberately  set  a  trap  for 
her  and  as  often  as  not  he  caught  her.  His  sus- 
picions grew  and  grew,  but  he  did  not  confide  them 
to  any  one.  Even  if  he  had  been  willing  to  get 
Pollyooly  into  trouble,  as  he  was  not,  he  was  very 
strongly  of  the  opinion  that  all  the  grown-ups 
would  laugh  at  him  for  such  suspicions.  After  all, 
that  Marion  should  be  some  one  else  was  incredible. 

Then  he  attained  certainty.  One  afternoon  they 
had  wandered  into  a  part  of  the  estate  new  to  Polly- 
ooly, and  they  came  out  of  a  wood  to  see  on  the  hill- 
side, half  a  mile  away,  a  windmill  with  whirling 
sails. 

"Whatever's  that?"  cried  Pollyooly,  startled  out 
of  her  caution  by  the  sight.  There  had  been  no 
windmills  in  the  country  round  Muttle-Deeping. 

"Whatever's  what?"  said  Ronald. 

"That  thing  turning  round,"  said  Pollyooly, 
pointing  to  the  windmill. 

"That  settles  it,"  said  Ronald,  throwing  himself 
down  on  the  turf.  "If  you  were  Marion,  you'd 
have  seen  that  windmill  a  dozen  times  and  the  wind- 


252  POLLYOOLY 

mill  at  Wootton  a  hundred  times.  You  didn't 
know  that  it  was  a  windmill;  you're  not  Marion." 

Pollyooly  opened  her  mouth  to  declare  that  she 
was  Marion,  but  shut  it  without  uttering  a  word. 
Thanks  to  her  strict  training,  it  was  always  hard 
for  her  to  lie;  she  found  it  almost  impossible  to  lie 
to  Ronald. 

She  looked  round  the  landscape  rather  wildly, 
seeking  inspiration ;  then  she  said :  "Well,  something 
must  have  gone  wrong  with  my  memory." 

"Rats!  You're  not  Marion,  and  it's  no  good 
pretending  you  are — to  me.  Who  are  you?"  said 
Ronald  firmly. 

Pollyooly  said  nothing;  she  scowled  horribly  at 
the  innocent  windmill. 

"Now,  out  with  it.  If  you  tell  me  straight  away 
I  won't  split.  I  give  you  my  word,"  said  Ronald 
earnestly. 

Pollyooly  shook  her  head ;  but  her  puckered  brow 
smoothed  a  little. 

"Now,  come  on.  What's  the  good  of  keeping  a 
secret  which  isn't  a  secret  ?"  said  Ronald,  in  a  tone 
half  pleading,  half  commanding. 

"It  all  comes  of  not  letting  you  do  all  the  talking. 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING    253 

But  it  was  so  sudden — that  thing  going  round," 
said  Pollyooly  ruefully.  "You  won't  really  tell  any 
one?" 

"Not  a  soul,"  said  Ronald. 
"Well,   I  can't   tell  you  who   I  am,   because  I 
mustn't ;  but  I'm  not  Marion.    I'm  only  here  in  her 
place  for  a  while." 

"Where  is  she?"  said  Ronald. 
"I  don't  know  where  she  is ;  but  she  has  run  away 
with  her  mother — ever  so  far — where  they'll  never, 
never  be  found.     I'm  just  staying  here  till  they've 
got  there  safely." 

"By  Jove,  but  this  is  a  game!  It's  like  a  story 
in  a  book.  You  do  have  luck,"  said  Ronald  en- 
viously. 

"Yes;  but  it  isn't  very  comfortable — sometimes. 
I'm  always  being  afraid  of  being  found  out,"  said 
Pollyooly. 

"Oh,  there's  no  fear  of  that — not  here.  They're 
not  sharp  enough,"  said  Ronald  with  a  touch  of  con- 
tempt in  his  tone. 

"No,  they're  not  very  sharp,"  assented  Polly- 
ooly in  a  tone  of  satisfaction.  "It's  a  good  job 
they're  not." 


254  POLLYOOLY 

"No;  it  took  me  to  find  it  out,"  said  Ronald  with 
pardonable  self-satisfaction. 

"And  the  windmill,"  said  Polly ooly. 

"Oh,  I  should  have  found  it  out  without  the  wind- 
mill," said  Ronald  confidently. 

"Perhaps  you  would,"  said  Pollyooly  politely. 

"Really,  I  knew  it  all  the  time — only  it  was  so 
extraordinary,"  said  Ronald. 

He  lay  still  gazing  at  her  for  a  while;  then  he 
said  reflectively:  "Well,  I'm  glad  that  kid  has  got 
away  to  her  mother.  She  was  rather  a  rotter,  and 
I  never  cared  much  for  her,  though  I  believe  I'm 
going  to  marry  her  when  we  grow  up.  She  had  a 
poor  time  here." 

"Fancy  having  a  poor  time  in  a  beautiful  place 
like  this!  She  must  have  been  silly!"  cried  Polly- 
ooly in  amazement. 

"I  said  she  was  rather  a  rotter.  But  what  am  I 
to  call  you?  I'm  not  going  to  call  you  Marion. 
She's  rather  set  me  against  the  name." 

Pollyooly  considered  a  while.  It  seemed  safe  to 
impart  her  Christian  name,  and  she  told  him  that  it 
was  Mary,  adjuring  him  not  to  call  her  by  it  before 
any  one. 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING    255 

"No  fear,"  he  said.  "And  if  I  did,  they'd  never 
notice.  Why,  they  never  noticed  that  you  were 
worth  two  of  Marion,  and  ever  so  much  prettier." 

"Am  I?"  said  Pollyooly  with  some  gratification. 

"Now,  it's  nothing  to  get  vain  about;  you  can't 
help  it,"  said  Ronald  in  an  admonitory  tone. 

"I'm  not  going  to,"  said  Pollyooly  firmly. 

"It's  a  funny  thing  that  when  you  grow  up  you 
never  seem  to  notice  anything.  You'd  have  thought 
that  somebody  would  have  spotted  you,"  he  said 
meditatively. 

"They  don't  notice  much,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"It's  often  a  jolly  good  thing  they  don't,"  said 
Ronald  smiling. 

He  went  on  to  inquire  about  her  plans;  and  his 
face  fell  when  he  learned  that  she  was  only  going 
to  stay  a  few  days  longer.  He  begged  her  to  stay 
till  the  end  of  his  holidays,  pointing  out  that  it 
would  make  it  much  safer  for  Marion  if  she  did. 
But  Pollyooly  assured  him  that  that  was  the  term 
fixed ;  and  in  her  heart  of  hearts  she  would  not  have 
had  ijt  longer.  Pleasant  as  the  court  was,  she  wanted 
to  get  back  to  the  Lump.  Her  uneasy  feeling  that 
it  was  not  right  that  she  should  be  having  this  splen- 


256  POLLYOOLY 

did  time  in  the  country  while  the  Lump  was  in 
stuffy  London,  was  growing  stronger  and  stronger, 
though  not  strong  enough  to  prevent  her  enjoying  it. 

Ronald's  discovery  made  it  even  more  pleasant, 
for  it  set  them  on  far  more  intimate  terms  with 
each  other  as  sharers  of  a  great  secret.  He  was  no 
longer  condescending  with  her ;  he  felt  that  the  fact 
that  she  was  playing  the  chief  part  in  such  a  diffi- 
cult game  relieved  her  to  a  great  degree  from  the 
disability,  under  which  she  suffered,  of  being  a  girl. 

Now,  too,  that  she  no  longer  needed  to  be  so 
much  on  her  guard,  she  talked  to  him  more  freely, 
and  proved  so  lively  and  sympathetic  a  companion 
that  he  found  his  ideas  on  the  subject  of  girls 
changing  utterly.  They  became  the  closest  of  com- 
rades, inseparable.  Miss  Marlow  was  deeply,  ro- 
mantically touched  by  the  fact  that  so  early  in  life 
such  a  warm  sympathy  prevailed  between  two  be- 
ings who  were  destined  later  to  be  welded  together 
by  the  marriage  bond. 

Naturally,  when  the  morning  of  the  fatal  day  of 
parting  arrived,  they  were  both  sad.  Quite  uncon- 
sciously they  spent  it  in  a  pilgrimage  to  the  haunts 
in  which  they  had  most  enjoyed  themselves.  At  the 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING   257 

end  of  the  morning  they  were  coming  along  one 
of  the  shrubberies  toward  the  house  when  the  lunch- 
bell  rang. 

Pollyooly  stopped  short  and  said : 

"We'd  better  say  good-by  now.  I've  got  to  slip 
away  directly  after  lunch.  You'd  better  not  see 
who  I  go  with  in  case  it's  found  out  some  day,  and 
you're  asked  questions." 

"I  suppose  I'd  better  not,"  said  Ronald,  and  he  put 
his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  kicked  at  the  gravel. 

They  gazed  at  each  other  awkwardly;  then  he 
said,  "Well,  you're  the  jolliest  kid  I  ever  came 
across." 

"I  didn't  know  boys  could  be  as  nice  as  you," 
said  Pollyooly  with  conviction. 

There  was  another  rather  awkward  silence;  then, 
with  a  determined,  almost  heroic  air,  Ronald  stepped 
forward,  put  his  arm  clumsily  round  Pollyooly's 
shoulders,  and  kissed  her  full  on  the  lips. 

They  both  gasped  and  flushed ;  then  with  one  ac- 
cord they  turned  and  walked  quickly  toward  the 
house,  saying  nothing,  looking  shamefaced. 

On  the  top  of  the  steps  Pollyooly  paused  and  said 
softly,  "Good-by,  Ronnie." 


258  POLLYOOLY 

"Good-by,  old  girl,"  said  Ronald. 

The  food  at  lunch  did  not  taste  to  her  as  nice  as 
usual,  though  there  was  really  no  fault  to  find  with 
her  appetite.  Ronald  wore  a  gloomy  air,  and  was 
captious  with  Lady  Salkeld.  As  soon  as  lunch  was 
over  Pollyooly  went  up  to  her  bedroom  and  changed 
into  the  frock  and  hat  and  shoes  in  which  she  had 
come  to  the  court.  Then,  avoiding  the  servants,  she 
slipped  out  of  the  house  by  a  side  door  into  one  of 
the  long  shrubberies.  Once  screened  by  it,  she  ran 
swiftly  along  it,  and  then  up  the  sloping  lawn  to  the 
gate  of  the  home- wood. 

At  the  gate  of  the  wood  she  turned  for  a  last 
look  at  the  court  and  saw  Ronald  standing  on  the 
lawn  before  the  drawing-room  windows,  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  gazing  up  at  her.  She  waved 
her  hand  to  him  and  he  waved  his.  Then  she  went 
through  the  gate  to  the  wood.  She  did  not  find 
breathing  quite  easy  for  a  minute  or  two,  and  the 
aisle  of  the  wood  was  a  little  blurred  to  her  vision ; 
but  of  course  she  did  not  cry. 

:  She  went  swiftly  through  the  wood.  As  she 
came  out  of  the  gate  at  the  end  of  it  the  clock  over 
the  stables  of  the  court  struck  half-past  two;  and 


POLLYOOLY  PLAYS  CHANGELING   259 

thirty  yards  down  the  road  a  motor-car  was  coming 
slowly  up  to  the  gate. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  masked  by  his  gog- 
gles, was  driving  it,  and  on  the  seat  beside  him, 
placid  and  serene,  sat  the  Lump.  At  the  sight  of 
him  Pollyooly  gave  a  little  cry,  rushed  down  the 
road,  sprang  into  the  car,  caught  him  up  and  kissed 
and  hugged  him  furiously. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  smiled  and  said,  "I 
thought  you'd  be  dying  to  see  him.  But  take  him 
into  the  tonneau,  and  put  on  the  goggles  and  the 
cloak  on  the  seat.  Cover  your  hair  with  the  hood." 

Pollyooly  made  haste  to  transfer  herself  and  the 
Lump  to  the  tonneau  and  slip  on  the  hooded  cloak 
and  the  goggles. 

"You'll  do.  No  one  will  recognize  us,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin,  and  he  set  the  car  going. 

For  a  long  time  Pollyooly  was  busy  with  the 
gurgling  Lump,  assuring  herself  that  he  had  not 
suffered  for  lack  of  her  care,  trying  to  ascertain 
the  degree  of  his  joy  at  being  restored  to  her.  At 
last  she  settled  back  in  the  tonneau  with  a  sigh  of 
content.  It  had  been  hard  to  leave  the  court,  but 
after  all  the  Lump  was  the  Lump. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

POLLYOOLY   FINDS   A   CAREER 

IT  was  nearly  five  o'clock  before  they  reached  the 
Temple;  and  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  bade 
Pollyooly  give  the  Lump  his  tea  in  the  sitting-room 
that  he  himself  might  forthwith  hear  the  story  of  her 
stay  at -Ricksborough  Court.  She  was  not  long  get- 
ting the  tea  and  beginning  her  narrative. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffm  listened  to  her  with 
a  pleased  smile  till  she  came  to  Ronald's  discovery 
of  her  secret;  then  he  frowned  and  said,  "That's 
awkward.  It  means  that  sooner  or  later  they'll  find 
out  the  trick  we  played  on  them;  and  then  there'll 
be  fine  alarms  and  excursions." 

"Oh,  no,  sir.  They'll  never  find  out.  Ronald 
will  never  tell,"  said  Pollyooly  confidently. 

"He  won't  mean  to.  But  he's  young,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

Pollyooly  went  on  with  her  story;  and  when  she 
came  to  the  end  of  it,  he  congratulated  her  on  the 

260 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    261 

success  with  which  she  had  played  her  difficult  part. 
Then  he  said : 

"And  how  did  the  people  at  the  court  strike  you, 
Mrs.  Bride — your  revered,  but  temporary,  sire,  the 
duke,  your  amiable  aunt,  your  intelligent  governess, 
and  the  visitors?" 

Pollyooly  gazed  at  him  earnestly  and  knitted  her 
brow  in  the  effort  to  get  her  impressions  clear ;  then 
she  said,  "I  thought  they  were  very  quiet,  sir." 

"Empty — quite  empty,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin. 

"Yes,  sir.  That  was  it,"  said  Pollyooly  with  an 
angel  smile. 

"Very  different  from  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  talking 
to  a  common  bailiff,  or  Mr.  Vance  talking  about  a 
new  idea,  or  Mr.  James  talking  to  Mr.  Vance  about 
Mr.  Vance's  new  idea  ?  Eh  ?"  he  said  smiling. 

"Yes,  sir;  quite  different,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Ah,  Mrs.  Bride,  I  fear  we  are  spoiling  you  for 
the  common  life.  You  will  grow  up  to  expect  too 
much  from  your  fellow-creatures — too  many  brains. 
However,  it  can't  be  helped,"  he  said  mournfully. 

"No,  sir.  I  don't  mind,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a 
soothing  tone, 


262  POLLYOOLY 

"You're  an  obliging  creature,  Mrs.  Bride,"  said 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

Next  morning  he  seized  his  Morning  Post  with 
the  liveliest  interest;  but  there  was  no  word  of  the 
vanishing  of  Lady  Marion  Ricksborough.  For  the 
next  five  mornings  its  columns  were  no  less  barren. 
Then  on  the  sixth  morning  its  personal  column  was 
headed  by  an  advertisement  from  the  duke's  law- 
yers, offering  five  hundred  pounds  reward  for  infor- 
mation which  would  lead  to  her  recovery. 

When  Pollyooly  brought  in  his  bacon,  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  said  joyously,  "Your  revered, 
but  temporary,  sire,  the  duke,  has  put  the  fat  in 
the  fire  with  a  lavish  hand." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"He's  offering  five  hundred  pounds  reward  for 
your  double ;  and  he's  going  to  have  the  time  of  his 
life  with  all  the  amateur  detectives  of  England, 
Scotland,  Ireland  and  gallant  little  Wales,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Rufrln  with  immense  delight. 

The  duke  had  indeed  opened  the  sluices ;  and  since 
there  was  little  doing  at  home  or  abroad,the  news- 
papers took  the  matter  up  with  fiery  energy.  Polly- 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS   A  CAREER    263 

ooly's  quiet  feat  gave  the  presses  of  the  world  col- 
umns upon  columns  of  excited  narrative  and  con- 
jecture ;  it  drew  from  them  scores  of  pictures  of  the 
missing  child  and  every  person  and  place  connected 
with  her.  The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  would  read 
interesting,  but  perhaps  fatuous,  extracts  to  her  as 
he  ate  his  breakfast ;  and  he  brought  her  a  collection 
of  the  illustrated  weeklies  that  she  might  have  the 
pictures  of  the  affair. 

Pollyooly  was  very  pleased  to  have  the  pictures 
because  many  of  them  were  of  Ricksborough  Court; 
but  her  interest  in  the  matter  soon  waned.  It  was 
fortunate  that  only  the  cheaper  illustrated  papers 
circulated  in  Alsatia;  and  in  those  the  portraits  of 
Marion  were  unvarying  and  not  to  be  recognized. 
Had  the  more  expensive  weeklies  circulated  in  it,  it 
is  Lombard  Street  to  a  China  orange  that  the  solici- 
tors of  the  Duke  of  Osterley  would  have  had  the 
vain  task  of  investigating  Pollyooly's  past. 

In  nine  days  the  clamor  died  down.  The  news- 
papers and  the  amateur  detectives  found  other  af- 
fairs no  less  important  to  the  community;  and  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  declared  that  the  worst  was 


264  POLLYOOLY 

over,  that  the  only  danger  now  was  the  splitting  of 
Ronald,  and  that  he  thought  that  that,  too,  was  past. 

Pollyooly  had  settled  down  quietly  to  the  even 
tenor  of  her  life.  She  often  thought  of  Ronald;  she 
sometimes  longed  to  be  in  the  green  coolness  of  the 
Ricksborough  woods  with  the  Lump.  Then  one 
afternoon  she  had  just  taken  his  tea  to  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  and  retired  to  the  Lump  in  their 
attic,  when  there  came  a  knocking  on  the  door  of 
the  chambers.  She  went  down  and  opened  it;  and 
there,  on  the  landing,  stood  a  dazzling  vision — a  lady 
in  a  confection  of  scarlet  and  yellow,  in  which  only 
a  beauty  that  was  as  dark  and  as  brilliant  as  hers 
could  dare  to  deck  itself.  So  fine,  however,  was 
her  coloring,  so  dark  her  eyes  and  hair,  that  even 
those  primary  colors  seemed  hardly  to  give  them 
their  full  value. 

She  smiled  with  pleasure  at  the  sight  of  Polly- 
ooly's  angel  face,  in  its  frame  of  red  hair,  and  said 
in  a  delightful,  eager  voice : 

"You're  the  little  girl  Mr.  Hilary  Vance,  the 
painter,  calls  'Pollyooly,  the  Queen  of  the  Slum 
Fairies?'  You  sat  to  him  for  the  pictures  of  those 
fairy  stories  in  the  Blue  Magazine,  didn't  you?" 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS   A  CAREER    265 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Pollyooly  dropping  a  curt- 
sey, like  the  well-mannered  child  she  was. 

"Well,  I'm  the  Esmeralda,  the  dancer,"  said  the 
vision,  her  face  all  alight  with  eagerness.  "I  want 
a  little  girl  to  dance  with  me  in  a  fairy  dance  at  the 
Varolium.  I've  tried  at  the  dancing  schools  in  Lon- 
don without  finding  the  exact  right  one ;  then  I  saw 
the  picture  of  you  in  the  Blue  Magazine,  and  I  was 
sure  that  you  were  just  what  I  wanted,  if  you  could 
dance  a  little.  I  went  to  Mr.  Vance;  and  he  gave 
me  your  address,  and  told  me  that  you  could  dance, 
because  the  first  time  he  saw  you,  you  were  dancing 
to  a  barrel  organ." 

"Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Well,  it  isn't  really  dancing  I  want  from  you, 
only  just  to  move  about  lightly,  and  be  a  fairy  in 
the  picture;  and  I'll  pay  you  a  pound  a  week,"  said 
the  Esmeralda,  with  the  same  eager  quickness. 

"A  pound  a  week  ?"  said  Pollyooly ;  and  her  blue 
eyes  opened  very  wide,  shining. 

"Yes;  and  I'll  find  your  dresses — and  send  you 
home  every  night  after  the  show.  But  perhaps  I'd 
better  arrange  it  with  your  father  and  mother,"  said 
the  Esmeralda  quickly. 


266  POLLYOOLY 

"I  haven't  got  any  father  and  mother,"  said 
Pollyooly ;  and  her  face  was  aglow  with  hopes. 

"Then  will  you  come  and  dance  with  me?"  said 
the  Esmeralda. 

"I  must  ask  Mr.  Ruffin.  I'm  his  housekeeper. 
He's  in ;  I'll  go  and  ask  him  now,"  said  Pollyooly. 

The  Esmeralda  smiled  a  little  mischievously. 

"I'll  come  with  you.  You  can  introduce  me;  and 
I'll  arrange  it  with  him,"  she  said  confidently,  as  if 
she  had  never  had  reason  to  doubt  her  power  of 
persuading  men. 

They  went  to  the  sitting-room  door;  Pollyooly 
knocked  at  it,  opened  it,  ushered  in  the  Esmeralda, 
followed  her  in,  and  said : 

"Please,  sir,  this  is  the  Esmeralda.  And  may  I  go 
on  the  stage?" 

From  the  unruffled  coolness  with  which  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffm  rose  from  his  easy-chair  and 
bowed  to  the  Esmeralda,  the  sudden  irruption  of 
dazzling  visions  in  scarlet  and  yellow  might  have 
been  the  commonest  occurrence  in  his  daily  round. 

He  drew  forward  a  chair  for  her,  saying : 

"I'm  charmed  to  make  your  acquaintance.   Like 


POLLYOOLY   FINDS   A  CAREER    267 

the  rest  of  London,  I'm  looking  forward  with  the 
wildest  impatience  to  seeing  you  dance." 

Murmuring  a  polite  hope  that  he  would  not  be 
disappointed,  the  Esmeralda  sat  down  and  said, 
"I've  come  about  this  little — " 

He  checked  the  words  on  her  tongue  with  a  wave 
of  his  hand,  turned  to  Pollyooly,  and  said  in  grave 
tones : 

"Did  my  horrified  ears  deceive  me?  Or  did  I 
hear  you  ask  leave  to  go  on  the  stage,  Mrs  Bride?" 

"Yes,  please,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  firmly. 

He  shook  his  head  sadly,  and  said  in  a  reproach- 
ful tone : 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Bride,  Mrs.  Bride!  This  must  be  the 
result  of  your  country  up-bringing.  No  London 
child  of  twelve  would  dream  of  going  on  the  stage. 
This  is  the  pernicious  effect  of  life  at  Muttle- 
Deeping." 

"But  it's  a  pound  a  week,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly, 
plucking  at  her  frock.  "And  you  told  me  to  make 
all  the  money  I  could,  and  save  all  I  could,  because 
your  creditors  might  win  the  victory  and  consign 
you  to  the  deepest  dungeon  in  Holloway  Castle, 


268  POLLYOOLY 

and  the  Lump  and  I  would  be  turned  out.  That  was 
what  you  said,  sir." 

"A  pound  a  week?  That's  a  very  different  mat- 
ter," said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  with  a  great 
air  of  relief.  "As  long  as  it's  the  honest  desire  for 
hard  cash,  and  no  silly  glamour  of  the  footlights,  I 
see  no  harm  in  the  stage.  But  has  a  London  man- 
ager offered  you  an  engagement?  A  gleam  of  in- 
telligence in  a  London  manager — amazing !  It's  in- 
credible! Mrs.  Bride,  you're  pulling  the  leg  of  a 
man  old  enough  to  be  your  uncle." 

"It's  me,"  said  the  Esmeralda  quickly,  with  a 
dazzling  smile.  "I  want  her  to  go  on  the  stage." 

"Ah,  that  explains  the  intelligence,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  politely. 

"I  want  her  to  dance  with  me — in  a  fairy  pas- 
toral. It  will  be  quite  easy,"  said  the  Esmeralda. 

"Anything  with  you  would  be  quite  easy — moun- 
taineering— deep-sea  fishing — writing  poetry — the 
inspiration,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  po- 
litely. "And  if  the  hours  are  not  such  as  to  spoil 
her  complexion,  which  would  be  a  crime,  and  ruin 
her  constitution,  which  would  be  a  pity,  she  must 
surely  accept  your  offer.  A  pound  a  week  is  cer- 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    269 

tainly  fortune ;  and  who  knows  but  what  it  may  lead 
to  fame  ?"  he  ended  in  a  tone  of  enthusiasm. 

"I'll  look  after  her,"  said  the  Esmeralda. 

"I'm  sure  you  will,  I  already  feel  that  I  can  trust 
her  with  you.  And  yet  I  am  not  one  in  whom  con- 
fidence is  easily  inspired,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin.  "Bring  some  fresh  tea,  please,  Pollyooly; 
and  we  will  discuss  the  details.  Be  sure  you  cut  the 
bread  and  butter  very  thin." 

"No :  thick  for  me,  please,"  said  the  Esmeralda 
quickly.  "I've  been  in  South  America  for  months, 
and  there  is  no  bread  and  butter  in  South  America, 
so  I  can't  get  it  too  thick." 

"Good  Heavens!"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruf- 
fin. "Do  not  tell  me  that  there  is  no  grilled  bacon 
there  either." 

"There  certainly  isn't,"  said  the  Esmeralda. 

"What  a  country!"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin. 

"Oh,  it  is !"  said  the  Esmeralda  with  conviction. 

Pollyooly  went  to  make  some  fresh  tea.  When 
she  returned,  the  Esmeralda  was  saying  with  her 
eager  animation : 

"No,  no;  the  men  are  worse.    The  food  and  the 


270  POLLYOOLY 

insects  were  bad  enough ;  but  the  men  were  worse— 
perfectly  detestable — horrors." 

"How  very  unfortunate!"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  in  a  tone  of  profound  commiseration. 
"And  I  was  under  the  impression  that  they  were 
charming — full  of  fire  and  passion  and  southern 
romance." 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  was  that  that  made  them 
so  detestable,"  said  the  Esmeralda  thoughtfully.  "It 
was  a  perfect  persecution." 

"I  can  not  greatly  wonder  at  it,"  said  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin,  looking  at  her  with  some  earnest- 
ness. 

Their  eyes  kept  meeting  in  half  challenging,  half 
exploring  glances.  There  was  a  glow  in  them,  as  if 
they  had  kindled  one  another. 

Over  their  tea  they  discussed  the  matter  of  Polly- 
ooly's  embarkation  on  a  theatrical  career.  The  re- 
hearsals were  from  eleven  to  one;  and  it  was  ar- 
ranged that  Pollyooly  should  take  the  Lump  with 
her  to  them,  but  that  at  night,  during  the  actual  per- 
formance, Mrs.  Brown  should  take  care  of  him,  and 
that  Pollyooly  should  fetch  him  on  her  return  from 
the  theater. 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    271 

The  last  detail  fixed,  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
said,  "And  so  once  more,  Mrs.  Bride,  you  fill  a  long- 
felt  want.  Her  capacity  for  filling  long-felt  wants 
is  truly  wonderful.  Mr.  Vance  saw  her  dancing  and 
knew  at  once  that  she  was  the  only  child  in  London 
he  could  draw  for  his  fairy  tales ;  you  see  his  draw- 
ings and  know  at  once  that  she  is  the  only  child  in 
London  who  can  dance  the  fairy  part  with  you.  Yet 
neither  of  you  has  grasped  the  great,  essential  fact 
of  her  nature,  that  she  can  grill  bacon  better  than 
any  one  in  England." 

"It's  very  nice  to  be  wanted  as  a  model  and  a 
dancer;  but  grilling  bacon — "  said  the  Esmeralda; 
and  she  shrugged  her  shoulders  in  a  way  she  had 
acquired  in  South  America,  in  her  a  very  attractive 
way. 

"Ah,  you  are  young — young.  The  great  things 
of  life  have  not  yet  their  full  attraction  for  you," 
said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  a  tone  of  amiable 
indulgence. 

"Oh — as  to  being  young,  I  shouldn't  think  that 
you  were — were  much  over  fifty,"  said  the  Esmer- 
alda ;  and  her  eyes  sparkled. 

"Ah,  I  see  that  you're  a  judge  of  your  fellow- 


272  POLLYOOLY 

creatures.  I  am  not  much  over  fifty.  But  compared 
with  you  and  Mrs.  Bride,  I  feel  a  Methuselah — that 
knowledge  of  the  world  which  comes  of  sad  experi- 
ence," said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  with  a  weary 
air. 

"It  must  be  that  which  has  given  you  those  wrin- 
kles," said  the  Esmeralda. 

"You  are  right,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruf- 
fin. "But  don't  you  think  that,  as  Mrs.  Bride's  prac- 
tical guardian,  I  ought  to  come  to  some  of  those  re- 
hearsals? I  feel  it  a  duty — an  almost  imperative 
duty." 

"The  rules  are  very  strict,"  said  the  Esmeralda, 
hesitating  a  little. 

"You'd  be  surprised  how  often  I  come  up  against 
strict  rules  and  how  rarely  we  agree  with  one  an- 
other. One  of  us  generally  gets  broken  before  we 
part,"  said  the  Honorable  John  RufBn  sadly.  "Still, 
if  you  don't  forbid  me  to  wrestle  with  these  particu- 
lar rules,  I  think  I  should  like  to  see  what  stuff  they 
are  made  of." 

"It  isn't  for  me  to  forbid  you — it's  the  manager's 
business,"  said  the  Esmeralda,  smiling  a  faintly 
challenging  smile ;  and  she  rose. 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    273 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  escorted  her  down  to 
her  motor  brougham.  On  his  return,  smiling  ami- 
ably, he  said  to  Pollyooly,  who  was  clearing  the 
table,  "I  have  to  thank  you  for  a  valuable  acquaint- 
ance, Mrs.  Bride.  I  foresee  that  vast  improvement 
in  my  work  which  comes  of  the  proper  stimulation." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  polite  assent. 

A  whirling  week  followed.  There  were  rehearsals 
every  morning,  rehearsals  during  which  Esmeralda 
bullied  or  cajoled  the  band  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
excellence ;  there  were  visits  to  the  costumier,  where 
Pollyooly  was  decked  out  in  the  most  beautiful  fairy 
robes.  There  were  lunches  at  wonderful  restaurants, 
where  she  and  the  Lump  ate  strange  and  delicious 
food.  Twice  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  came  to 
rehearsals,  after  brisk  but  brief  struggles  with  the 
strict  rules;  and  twice  the  three  of  them  lunched 
with  him.  Pollyooly  enjoyed  those  two  lunches  very 
much,  though  she  could  not  follow  much  of  the  talk 
of  the  Esmeralda  and  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 
For  the  most  part,  they  sparred  with  each  other 
lightly;  and  it  amused  her.  She  was  too  young  to 
perceive  that  their  eyes  did  not  spar. 

The  Esmeralda  had  been  right  in  her  choice  of 


274  POLLYOOLY 

Pollyooly ;  she  learned  to  do  all  that  was  required  of 
her  in  three  rehearsals.  She  had  indeed  no  real 
dancing  to  do — it  would,  of  course,  have  been  im- 
possible— she  had  to  move  lightly  and  gracefully 
about  the  stage  in  her  part  of  a  decoration,  a  charm- 
ing foil  to  the  Esmeralda's  dark  beauty.  On  the 
night  of  the  first  performance  of  Titania's  Awaken- 
ing, as  the  Esmeralda's  act  was  named,  Pollyooly 
was  much  the  less  nervous  of  the  two,  for  she  hardly 
gave  a  thought  to  the  audience ;  she  was  only  intent 
on  doing  her  part  properly ;  and  she  did  her  simple 
business  as  well  as  it  could  be  done.  She  only  be- 
came really  aware  of  the  audience  when  she  stood 
hand  in  hand  with  the  Esmeralda,  bowing  to  the 
storm  of  applause. 

Titania's  Azvakening  was  a  prodigious  success; 
and  Pollyooly  found  her  pound  a  week  assured  for 
many  weeks.  Once  more  her  bank  account  would 
swell.  To  the  two  children  the  Esmeralda  was  un- 
failingly delightful;  she  always  hugged  them  and 
kissed  them  at  meeting  and  at  parting;  she  would 
often  spend  an  hour  playing  with  them  in  her  flat  as 
if  she  were  a  child  herself.  Indeed,  time  and  again, 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    275 

Pollyooly  felt  very  strongly  that  she  was  really  the 
older  and  more  serious  of  the  two. 

Often  the  Esmeralda  talked  to  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  about  Pollyooly,  asserting  that  she 
would  make  an  admirable  dancer,  and  that  it  would 
be  a  shame  to  let  her  talent  be  lost  for  want  of 
the  proper  training.  The  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
was  impressed  by  her  earnestness,  and  discussed  with 
her  at  length  the  matter  of  the  proper  training  and 
how  it  was  to  be  obtained. 

At  last  he  said,  "Well,  it  is  quite  clear  that  the 
time  has  come  for  the  friends  of  Pollyooly  to  rally 
round  her — that  is  the  right  phrase,  'To  rally  round 
her.'  A  fund  must  be  formed  and  administered  by 
some  serious  person — Gedge-Tomkins  would  be  an 
admirable  man  to  administer  it — to  pay  for  her 
training." 

"I  must  come  into  that  fund,"  said  the  Esmeralda. 

"You  shall,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin, 
smiling. 

At  first  the  Esmeralda  was  very  careful  to  drive 
Pollyooly  back  to  the  Temple  immediately  after  the 
performance.  Then  she  fell  into  the  way  of  some- 


276  POLLYOOLY 

times  taking  her  with  her  to  supper,  for  late  hours 
had  no  effect  on  Pollyooly.  Sometimes  one  of  her 
admirers  had  pressed  her  for  an  introduction  to  her 
angelic  foil ;  sometimes  she  did  not  care  to  sup  alone 
with  one  of  them,  and  she  would  say  to  Pollyooly : 

"I  want  you  to  come  and  play  little  red  goose- 
berry to-night." 

At  these  suppers  Pollyooly  became  acquainted 
with  some  of  the  most  ornamental  members  of  the 
British  peerage,  men  whose  ancestors  had  fought  at 
Agincourt  and  Flodden,  or  brewed  beer  for  nearly 
two  generations.  She  was  too  young  to  appreciate 
her  great  privilege;  and  she  very  much  preferred 
the  suppers  at  which  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  (be- 
tween whom  and  a  peerage  stood  as  many  as  nine 
lives)  was  host,  because  there  was  so  much  more 
laughter  at  them. 

There  are  reasons  for  believing  that  the  Esmer- 
alda  preferred  them,  too;  if  not,  why  was  he  her 
most  frequent  host?  And  why  did  her  eyes  shine 
so  much  more  brightly  and  her  smiles  follow  one 
another  so  much  more  quickly  when  she  supped 
with  him  ?  Sometimes,  too,  in  her  talks  with  Polly- 
ooly, she  showed  herself  curious  about  him.  It  was 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    277 

not  much  that  Pollyooly  could  tell  her;  but  she 
seemed  quite  interested  in  such  little  intimate  de- 
tails as  his  habit  of  chanting  poetry  (Pollyooly  be- 
lieved it  to  be  poetry)  in  his  bath,  and  of  bestrew- 
ing his  sitting-room  with  half  the  garments  in  his 
wardrobe  in  the  course  of  choosing  his  clothes  for 
the  day.  Moreover,  it  was  after  a  talk  with  Polly- 
ooly about  the  cold  resolution  with  which  he  battled 
with  his  creditors,  that  the  Esmeralda  proclaimed 
her  fancy  to  sup  in  a  little  cafe  in  Soho  rather  than 
in  the  shinier  and  more  expensive  restaurants  in  Pic- 
cadilly, and  made  this  their  practice. 

But  one  evening  he  met  them  at  the  stage-door  of 
the  Varolium  and  said:  "To-day  is  my  birthday, 
and  to-night  we  sup  at  Prince's." 

"The  Cafe  Grice  is  very  nice,  and  so  cozy,"  the 
Esmeralda  protested. 

"Yes,  yes ;  but  a  man's  birthday  fancies  are  sacred. 
Nothing  must  stand  in  the  way  of  following  them. 
Besides,  to-day  I  had  an  exceedingly  agreeable  meet- 
ing with  my  cousin,  the  Duke  of  Osterley,  a  friend 
of  Pollyooly,  to  whom,  indeed,  he  quite  uncon- 
sciously stood  in  loco  parentis  for  a  while.  At  least 
it  was  a  very  agreeable  meeting  for  me,  though  he 


278  POLLYOOLY 

went  away  from  it  in  a  state  of  entirely  unreasonable 
depression,  considering  his  income.  And  now  my 
pocket  is  a  positive  volcano ;  there  is  that  in  it  which 
burns — burns."  And  he  slapped  it  with  the  grand 
air. 

"You've  touched  a  duke?  How  very  splendid!" 
cried  the  Esmeralda  joyfully.  "But  if  it's  your 
birthday,  it's  my  supper.  I  shall  be  hostess;  so 
there!" 

The  three  of  them  got  into  her  motor  brougham, 
and  all  the  way  to  Prince's  he  and  she  wrangled 
amiably  about  who  should  be  host.  In  the  end  the 
Esmeralda  prevailed,  and  she  ordered  the  supper  in 
a  generous,  broad-minded  fashion,  displaying  an  ac- 
curate knowledge  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's 
tastes,  which  seemed  to  show  that  she  had  paid  no 
little  attention  to  them. 

The  supper  was  proceeding  joyously  when,  in  the 
middle  of  it,  there  came  to  the  next  table  a  tall, 
barrel-shaped  young  man  with  an  unspeakably  terri- 
fying mustache.  So  fierce  and  big  and  bristly  was 
it  that  at  first  it  absorbed  all  the  attention  of  the 
tremulous  beholder. 

Only  when  this  natural  panic  had  abated  could  he 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    279 

observe  that  the  young  man  had  cheeks  uncommonly 
like  little  yellow  cushions,  thick  lips  of  a  scarcely, 
agreeable  purplish  red,  and  little  black  eyes  of  the 
best  boot -button  type.  His  short-cropped  black  hair 
looked  a  more  excellent  clothes-brush  than  ever 
came  out  of  a  factory. 

The  Esmeralda  acknowledged  his  profound  and 
elaborate  bow  with  the  slightest  inclination,  and  a 
faint  look  of  dismay  swept  across  her  face.  Polly- 
ooly  looked  at  him  at  length  with  fascinated,  half- 
frightened  eyes.  The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  gave 
him  half  a  glance,  and  went  on  talking. 

But  a  cloud  seemed  to  have  fallen  on  the  Esmer- 
alda's  gaiety ;  now  and  again  a  little  frown  puckered 
her  brow,  and,  in  spite  of  herself,  her  eyes  would 
wander  to  the  remarkable  stranger.  She  seemed  to 
withdraw  their  gaze  from  him  with  a  jerk. 

Presently  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  said :  "The 
yellow  gentleman  from  foreign  parts  who  keeps 
staring  at  you  as  if  he  were  quite  fresh  from  his 
simple  village,  is  worrying  you.  Shall  I  beg  him 
to  confine  his  sparkling  glances  to  the  waiters?" 

"No,  no!"  said  the  Esmeralda  quickly.  "Leave 
him  alone ;  he's  a  very  dangerous  man.  He's  Diego 


28o  POLLYOOLY 

Perez,  the  son  of  a  famous  Bolivian  brigand,  and 
they  call  him  the  Lion  of  Montevideo." 

"He  looks  more  like  a  yellow  dog,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  in  a  dispassionate  tone,  survey- 
ing him  coldly. 

The  South  American  twisted  his  fierce  mustache, 
scowled  fiercely  at  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  and 
again  turned  his  passionate  gaze  on  the  Esmer- 
alda. 

"He  was  an  awful  nuisance  out  there,"  she  said, 
frowning.  "He  must  have  been  dreadfully  spoiled 
when  he  was  young." 

"He'll  get  dreadfully  spoiled,  now  that  he's  old,  if 
he  goes  on  staring  like  that,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  grimly,  "though  it  would  need  pains- 
taking work  to  spoil  a  face  like  that." 

"Oh,  no,  no!  You  must  leave  him  alone — you 
must,  really,"  said  the  Esmeralda.  "He's  really  very 
dangerous.  The  people  out  there  were  terrified  of 
him.  They  said  he  would  stick  at  nothing." 

"A  chip  of  the  old  brigand  block,  eh?"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  calmly.  "But  we  must  re- 
member that  the  Lion  of  Montevideo  is  the  Lamb  of 
Piccadilly." 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    281 

"But  he  carries  weapons — a  revolver.  They  all 
do/'  said  the  Esmeralda. 

"Nature  gave  me  all  the  weapons  I  need  for  deal- 
ing with  South  American  princes,"  said  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  calmly.  "But  after  all,  we're  not 
yellow  dog  fanciers.  Let  us  talk  about  more  inter- 
esting things — the  art  of  grilling  bacon,  now." 

Pollyooly  did  not  understand  their  talk  very 
clearly,  but  she  gathered  that  her  friends  did  not 
like  the  big,  yellow  gentleman  with  the  splendid  dia- 
mond in  his  shirt-front ;  therefore,  loyally,  she  took 
a  strong  dislike  to  him  herself. 

The  next  time  his  eyes  fell  on  her,  observing  that 
her  companions  were  absorbed  in  one  another,  she 
made  a  most  hideous  face  at  him.  He  started,  drew 
himself  upright  in  his  chair,  and  scowled  at  her. 

Pollyooly  did  not  abate  her  hideous  grimace,  and, 
with  an  air  of  dignity,  he  withdrew  his  eyes  from 
her.  But,  owing  to  defective  training  in  his  youth, 
his  was  such  an  unbalanced  nature  that  he  could  not 
keep  them  off  her;  they  were  dragged  back  to  her 
by  his  unhealthy  curiosity  to  see  what  dreadful 
shape  her  exquisite  features  had  assumed.  Conse- 
quently she  enjoyed  the  rest  of  that  supper  very 


282  POLLYOOLY 

much.  Whenever  the  yellow  gentleman's  boot-but- 
ton eyes  strayed  to  their  table,  she  was  ready  for  him 
with  some  fresh  grimace,  suggested  by  a  truly  fertile 
fancy. 

He  was  bitterly  annoyed  to  find  himself  no  longer 
able  to  impress  the  Esmeralda  with  the  fiery  glances 
of  passion;  he  felt  that  the  need  to  see  what  new 
distortion  of  her  angel  face  Pollyooly  had  ready 
for  him  weakened  his  power  of  concentrating  him- 
self in  a  burning  gaze,  and  so  impaired  its  intensity. 

At  the  end  of  twenty  minutes  of  it  he  gave  it  up, 
rose  with  a  jerk  from  his  chair,  and  strode  out  of 
the  restaurant  in  a  petulant  fury. 

"I  congratulate  you,  Pollyooly — a  very  valuable 
accomplishment,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin, 
smiling. 

Pollyooly  flushed  in  a  lively  dismay.  She  had 
never  perceived  that  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  had 
brought  to  perfection  the  admirable  art  of  seeming 
to  see  nothing  while  seeing  everything. 

"What  has  she  been  doing?"  said  the  Esmeralda, 
smiling  at  him. 

"Pollyooly  has  routed  your  yellow  pet,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin. 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS   A  CAREER    283 

"How  clever  of  you!  How  ever  did  you  do  it?" 
cried  the  Esmeralda. 

"By  the  intensity  of  her  forbidding  gaze,"  said 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin. 

It  soon  grew  plain  that  Diego  Perez  had  come  to 
England  in  pursuit  of  the  Esmeralda,  and  he  became 
her  yellow  shadow.  He  took  up  his  abode  at  the 
Savoy;  and  she  hardly  ever  came  out  of  her  rooms 
without  finding  him,  bowing  and  smiling  with  a  con- 
quering air,  somewhere  on  her  path  to  the  street. 

He  was  always  at  the  stage-door  to  greet  her  as 
she  came  out  after  her  performance.  Did  she  lunch 
or  dine  at  a  restaurant,  he  sat  gazing  at  her  in  his 
passionate  way.  Every  day  he  sent  her  flowers — to 
her  rooms  and  to  the  theater ;  sometimes  there  was 
a  bracelet  or  a  ring  with  the  flowers;  always  there 
was  a  note,  ill-spelled,  perhaps,  but  very  passionate. 

Sometimes  among  the  passion  was  an  invitation 
to  lunch  or  dinner ;  sometimes  an  invitation  to  accom- 
pany the  adoring  writer  to  a  wanner  climate  and 
dwell  in  a  palace.  Whenever  he  got  a  few  words 
with  the  object  of  his  passionate  adoration  he  would 
prefer  this  petition  orally,  and  ever  with  a  firmer 
insistence;  twice  he  talked  of  procuring  a  special 


284  POLLYOOLY 

marriage  license  against  her  succumbing  to  his  yel- 
low charm. 

The  Esmeralda  was  an  icicle  to  him.  She  returned 
his  flowers,  his  jewelry,  and  his  notes.  She  broke 
away  from  him  in  the  middle  of  his  passionate  pro- 
testations. At  restaurants  she  tried  not  to  give  him 
a  glance;  often  she  succeeded. 

But  there  was  no  discouraging  him ;  he  was  plainly- 
under  the  deepest-rooted  conviction  that  a  woman 
must  succumb  to  a  series  of  attacks. 

His  perseverance  was  not  without  its  effect.  It 
compelled  the  Esmeralda  to  be  always  talking  of 
him — to  Pollyooly  and  to  other  admirers,  who  could 
not  long  remain  ignorant  of  that  yellow,  passionate 
presence.  But  to  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  she 
said  nothing  about  him  save  when  his  adoring  pres- 
ence at  the  same  restaurant  drew  their  talk  to  him. 
Then  she  made  light  of  the  matter,  laughed  at  it. 
She  was  greatly  afraid  lest  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  should  intervene ;  and  she  dreaded  the  Monte- 
videan's  dangerous  temper.  Then  there  came  a  lapse 
from  her  caution. 

"It's  really  getting  awful !"  she  cried  to  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin,  when  her  large  round  admirer 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    285 

made  his  first  appearance  in  the  little  Soho  cafe,  for 
it  was  so  unexpected  that  it  took  her  off  her  guard. 

"If  he  goes  on  sticking  to  it  like  this,  you'll  have 
to  marry  him  to  get  rid  of  him,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin. 

"I  wouldn't  marry  him  for  one  of  his  silly  palaces 
in  every  country  in  the  world !"  cried  the  Esmeralda. 
"Why,  he'd  probably  murder  me  out  of  jealousy 
before  we'd  been  married  a  week.  Look  how  he 
scowls  when  he  sees  me  with  you — with  anybody." 

"Yes ;  I've  noticed  that  the  presence  of  Pollyooly 
affects  him  painfully,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruf- 
fin pensively.  "And  those  scowls  do  belie  that  ten- 
der heart  of  his  about  which  he  writes  to  you." 

"It's  all  very  well  to  laugh,"  said  the  Esmeralda 
unhappily.  "But  I'm  getting  more  and  more  uneasy 
about  him.  He  won't  go  on  in  this  peaceful  way 
much  longer — I  know  he  won't.  I've  heard  stories 
about  him.  You  don't  know  what  Montevideo  is." 

Her  tone  grew  more  and  more  anxious;  she 
looked  almost  scared. 

"My  dear  child,  I'd  no  notion  that  the  brute  was 
worrying  you  like  this,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  with  a  sudden  earnestness;  and  he  regarded 


286  POLLYOOLY 

the  Esmeralda  with  a  sudden,  tender  concern. 
"Why,  I'd  have  stopped  it  at  once.  But  it  seemed 
just  a  joke  to  me.  I'll  stop  it  to-morrow." 

"There!  I've  done  it  now!  And  I  did  so  mean 
to  say  nothing!"  cried  the  Esmeralda  in  the  liveliest 
dismay.  "It  isn't  really  anything.  It's  just  my  silli- 
ness. He  doesn't  really  bother  me  at  all.  You 
mustn't  take  any  notice  of  him.  He  doesn't  matter 
at  all." 

"I'll  bring  you  his  yellow  head  on  a  charger  for 
breakfast — no,  for  lunch  to-morrow,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  calmly.  "It  will  make  a  pretty 
table  decoration ;  and  it  will  go  admirably  with  one 
of  those  yellow,  or  perhaps  orange,  dresses  which 
you  alone  of  all  women  in  this  drab  world  can  prop- 
erly wear." 

He  spoke  gently  enough,  but  there  was  an  under- 
tone of  resolve  in  his  tone  which  promised  ill  to 
Seiior  Perez. 

"No !  No !  I  won't  have  it !  I  won't  have  you 
interfere  at  all !  It  isn't  myself  at  all !  It's  his  do- 
ing something  horrid  to  you  I'm  afraid  of!"  cried 
the  Esmeralda  in  a  panic. 

"Oh,  come;  we're  in  London — in  the  Twentieth 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS   A  CAREER    287 

Century — not  in  Montevideo  in  the  Nineteenth," 
said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  a  reassuring  tone. 

"If  you  have  a  row  with  him,  I'll  never  speak  to 
you  again!  Never!"  cried  the  Esmeralda  in  acute 
anxiety. 

"It  is  my  duty  as  a  plain  Englishman  to  bring  you 
the  head  of  that  yellow  dog  on  a  charger — a  charger 
of  Sheffield  plate,  I  think ;  for  I  can  not  run  to  gold ; 
and  my  duty  I  must  do,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin. 

"No,  no,  John;  you  mustn't  interfere  with  him. 
You  mustn't  really,"  said  the  Esmeralda  in  a  plead- 
ing tone;  and  she  leaned  forward  with  her  hands 
clasped. 

"But  I  don't  want  you  to  eat  his  head — it  would 
be  impossible  indeed  to  make  a  brain  sauce  to  go 
with  it,  owing  to  his  unfortunate  and  disgraceful 
lack  of  brains.  I  only  want  you  to  have  it  as  a  table 
decoration,"  protested  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
earnestly.  "I  want  to  lay  it  on  your  lunch-table  as 
a  tribute  to  your  all-conquering  charm.  It's  a  trib- 
ute paid  to  so  few  women  in  this  milk  and  watery 
age.  You'd  feel  immensely  proud." 

"Oh,  there's  no  doing  anything  with  you!"  said 


288  POLLYOOLY 

the  Esmeralda  in  a  tone  of  despair;  and  she  rose. 
"But  come  along.  We  won't  talk  about  it  here. 
You'll  never  promise  with  his  ugly  face  in  front  of 
you!" 

"Women  certainly  have  a  wonderful  intuition," 
said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  regarding  the  face 
of  Sefior  Perez  with  the  most  critical  attention  as 
he  rose.  "Perhaps  it  would  be  more  pleasant  to  take 
Mrs.  Bride,  who  can  hardly  keep  her  eyes  open,  back 
to  the  Temple  and  finish  our  supper  at  the  Savoy. 
It's  only  eleven." 

He  smiled  graciously  at  the  scowling  Montevid- 
ean;  and  they  distinctly  heard  that  yellow  one's 
fine  teeth  grind  in  his  purple  mouth. 

They  conveyed  the  sleepy  Pollyooly  to  the  bottom 
of  Alsatia ;  and  waited  till  she  came  down  it  bearing 
the  sleeping  Lump.  Such  was  his  splendid  placidity 
that  it  was  seldom  indeed  that  the  transit  from  Mrs. 
Brown's  to  his  own  bed  awoke  him.  Then  they 
walked  down  to  the  Thames  Embankment  and  along 
it  to  the  Savoy. 

The  next  morning  at  breakfast  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  said  very  sadly:  "Have  you  ever  ob- 
served, Mrs.  Bride,  how  terrible  a  thing  it  is  to  have 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS   A  CAREER    289 

a  soft  heart?  But  probably  you  haven't  got  one,  for 
it  is  not  a  feminine  attribute.  But  for  a  man  it  is 
terrible;  it  robs  him  of  the  most  thrilling  joys  of 
life." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  sympathetically. 

"Now  you  saw  last  night  that  I  had  promised  my- 
self the  pleasure  of  continuing  the  work  of  the  par- 
ents of  the  Lion  of  Montevideo  by  spoiling  him  a 
little  more.  I  was  going  to  spoil  his  face.  Was  it 
not  plain — not  the  face,  but  my  intention?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  with  conviction. 

"Well,  my  soft  heart  has,  as  usual,  robbed  me  of 
a  joy;  and  I  have  pledged  myself  to  leave  his  par- 
ents' work  unfinished." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly;  and  she  looked  a  little 
disappointed. 

"And  now  of  course  I  am  in  a  hole.  The  offen- 
sive ruffian  must  be  checked ;  and  I  can't  do  it.  The 
only  form  of  remonstrance  that  sort  of  a  bounder 
understands  is  the  remonstrance  by  boot ;  and  I  can't 
remonstrate  with  him  now,"  he  went  on,  talking  to 
himself,  and  frowning. 

"He  does  bother  the  Esmeralda,  sir,"  said  Polly- 
ooly. 


2QO  TOLLYOOLY 

"Yes ;  I  expect  you  know  ever  so  much  more  about 
it  than  I  do,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin;  and 
he  frowned  again.  "Of  course  the  boot  for  our 
purpose  is  the  boot  of  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins.  But  I'm 
hanged  if  I  can  see  how  to  bring  it  to  the  application 
point." 

"No,  sir.  I  don't  think  he'd  do  it,  sir,"  said  Polly- 
ooly. 

"He  wouldn't,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
with  decision.  "He  is  much  fonder  of  his  career 
than  I  am  of  mine.  And  there  might  be  a  fuss." 

He  was  silent,  with  puckered  brow,  cudgeling  his 
brain. 

"Please,  sir;  Mr.  Vance  is  very  big,"  said  Polly- 
ooly  gently. 

"By  Jove!  Genius!  Genius  again!"  cried  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  loudly  and  joyfully.  "Oh, 
how  I  envy  you  your  resourceful  mind,  Mrs.  Bride ! 
Vance  is  the  very  man ;  he  boils  with  chivalry !  The 
thing  is  done!  I  will  bring  him  and  the  Esmeralda 
together  again — at  tea — this  very  afternoon !  Splen- 
did!" 

He  wasted  no  time.  Directly  after  breakfast  he 
betook  himself,  as  fast  as  a  swift  new  taxicab  could 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    291 

bear  him,  to  Chelsea,  to  Hilary  Vance's  studio,  and 
found  him  regarding  his  brushes  with  the  gloomy 
dislike  of  a  man  who  is  about  to  get  to  congenial 
work.  He  asked  him  if  he  remembered  the  Esmer- 
alda,  the  charming  creature  who  had  called  on  him  to 
ask  for  the  address  of  Pollyooly. 

Remember  her?  .  .  .  Hilary  Vance  protested 
that  he  did  nothing  but  remember  her !  .  .  .  He 
dreamed  of  her!  .  .  .  He  had  been  to  see  her 
dance  fourteen  times!  ...  It  was  the  desire  of 
his  heart  to  paint  her!  ...  It  would  mean  un- 
dying fame !  .  .  .  She  would  be  the  inspiration 
of  a  lifetime! 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  let  him  talk  about  her. 
He  talked  about  her  himself.  And  then  he  insinu- 
ated into  his  discourse,  deftly  and  without  emphasis, 
the  story  of  her  impassioned  persecution  by  Senor 
Diego  Perez. 

Hilary  Vance  flamed  and  flared.  His  chief  de- 
sire seemed  to  be  to  know  whether  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  called  himself  a  man.  He  reiterated  the 
question  till  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  lost  count 
of  the  reiterations.  When  lack  of  breath  reduced 
the  chivalrous  artist  to  a  passing  silence,  he  ex- 


292  POLLYOOLY 

plained  that  his  hands  were  tied.  Forthwith  Hilary 
Vance  sprang  into  the  breach.  He  would  free  the 
Esmeralda  from  the  persecution  at  once — that  very 
afternoon.  He  demanded  to  be  led  to  the  Lion  of 
Montevideo  without  a  moment's  delay. 

"There  is  a  season  for  everything;  and  the  even- 
ing is  the  time  for  Montevideans,"  said  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  calmly.  "I  don't  know  how  it 
strikes  you,  but  I  always  associate  the  Lion  of  Mon- 
tevideo with  the  fountains  in  Trafalgar  Square — it 
must  be  the  lions  at  the  foot  of  Nelson's  column. 
In  my  dreams  I  see  him  in  the  basin  of  the  left-hand 
fountain — I  do  not  know  why  the  left-hand  foun- 
tain— sprawling." 

"Splendid!"  said  Hilary  Vance  in  a  tone  of  rich 
enthusiasm. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact,  I  have  often  wondered  what 
those  fountains  were  for,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  thoughtfully.  "Now  I  know." 

"You  do  have  good  ideas.  You're  rather  like 
me,"  said  Hilary  Vance. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  looked  at  him  ear- 
nestly. "Yes ;  but  we  are  nothing  to  Mrs.  Bride." 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    293 

"Ah,  that  child's  a  wonder,"  said  Hilary  Vance 
with  appreciation. 

"Well,  will  you  come  to  tea  this  afternoon  and 
meet  the  Esmeralda?  Then  we  can  arrange  to  do 
everything  in  our  power  to  wash  the  Lion  of  Mon- 
tevideo," said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  a  busi- 
nesslike tone.  "He  must  be  lured  to  the  bath." 

"I  shall  be  charmed — delighted,"  said  Hilary 
Vance  with  even  warmer  enthusiasm.  "I'll  bring 
James  with  me,  if  I  may.  I  think  he  had  better  be 
with  me  at  the  fountain.  He  keeps  so  cool." 

"Bring  him  by  all  means,"  said  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin.  "The  meeting  with  the  Esmeralda 
will  make  him  enthusiastic,  too ;  and  when  it  comes 
to  bathing  the  Lion,  he  will  have  all  his  coolness 
about  him." 

Hilary  Vance  and  Mr.  James  came  to  tea;  and 
the  Esmeralda  set  their  patriotic  detestation  of  the 
foreigner  burning  furiously.  She  was  always 
charming;  but  to  friends  of  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  she  was  charming  indeed. 

After  she  had  gone,  the  three  men  arranged  the 
details  of  the  bath  of  Senor  Perez.  They  did  not 


294  POLLYOOLY 

take  Pollyooly  into  their  confidence,  for  they  did  not 
wish  the  Esmeralda  to  know  anything  of  their  cool- 
ing plan. 

When,  with  Pollyooly,  she  came  out  of  the  stage 
door  of  the  Varolium,  she  found  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  awaiting  her.  Seiior  Perez  did  not  ap- 
pear till  they  had  walked  several  yards  down  the 
street ;  and  then,  as  was  sometimes  his  curious  way, 
he  appeared  suddenly  ten  yards  behind  them,  and 
proceeded  to  follow  them  with  the  purpose  of  sup- 
ping at  the  same  restaurant,  and  pouring  broadside 
after  broadside  of  passionate  glances  into  the  Es- 
meralda. There  can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  that 
he  believed  that  he  shone  in  the  part  of  the  basilisk. 
It  may  be  that  he  had  found  the  attitude  of  that  in- 
tent, but  probably  mythical,  beast  prove  effective 
with  the  ladies  of  his  native  land. 

The  Esmeralda  kept  casting  uneasy  glances  over 
her  shoulder,  for  she  really  feared  that  he  might 
dash  upon  the  Honorable  John  Rnfrin,  knife  in  hand 
(a  Montevidian  custom,  according  to  the  manager 
who  had  arranged  her  triumphs  in  that  country)  and 
she  wished  to  be  ready  to  throw  herself  between 
them.  It  was  only  natural  that  she  should  desire  to 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    295 

adapt  her  conduct  as  far  as  possible  to  the  dramatic 
tradition. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  talked  carelessly,  as 
if  he  were  unaware  of  his  rival's  nearness,  though 
once,  with  a  quick  glance,  he  measured  the  distance 
which  separated  that  rival  from  the  two  trusty 
friends  who  followed  him,  Hilary  Vance  almost 
transpontine  in  his  stealthy  gait.  Pollyooly  walked 
sedately  beside  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin;  only 
once,  when  he  was  talking  in  an  animated  fashion 
to  the  Esmeralda,  did  she  turn  in  the  full  light  of 
a  street-lamp  and  bestow  a  hideous  grimace  on  their 
follower. 

The  Esmeralda,  dearly  as  she  would  have  loved 
to  be  in  a  taxicab,  after  some  urging  accepted  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin's  suggestion  that  they  should 
stroll  back  to  the  Savoy,  since  the  night  was  hot,  and 
the  Strand  still  empty,  for  the  crowds  had  not  yet 
poured  forth  from  the  theaters. 

In  this  order  they  came  into  Trafalgar  Square, 
Senor  Perez,  a  menacing  figure,  stalking  them 
grimly,  never  dreaming  that  he  in  his  turn  was  being 
stalked  by  a  fiery  artist. 

It  must  have  been  some  inborn  instinct  for  the 


296  POLLYOOLY 

tragic  event  which  caused  Pollyooly  to  lag  behind ; 
and  she  was  not  more  than  five  yards  away  from 
them  when,  a  few  feet  from  the  fountain,  Hilary 
Vance  tapped  Senor  Perez  on  the  shoulder,  and  in 
the  hissing  tones  of  melodrama  informed  him  that 
the  time  had  come  for  an  infernal  foreigner  to 
cease  persecuting  an  English  star. 

With  infinite  swiftness  and  presence  of  mind 
Senor  Perez  smacked  Hilary  Vance's  face.  With 
a  roar  Hilary  Vance  closed  with  him,  and  rapt  him 
from  the  earth,  or  rather,  to  be  exact,  from  the 
pavement.  At  the  roar  the  Esmeralda  turned,  but 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin's  arm  went  round  her, 
and  he  drew  her  quickly  across  the  Square. 

Hilary  Vance  with  long  strides  bore  Senor  Perez, 
struggling  violently  and  expostulating  in  shrieks  of 
the  most  idiomatic  Montevidean,  to  the  basin  of  the 
fountain.  Then  it  would  have  been  both  more  fit- 
ting and  more  decorous  that  he  should  have  dropped 
him  into  it  without  falling  into  it  himself;  but  that 
was  not  how  it  happened.  They  both  fell  into  the 
basin  together  with  a  magnificent  splash — so  glori- 
ous a  splash  that  Pollyooly  shrieked  with  joy. 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS   A  CAREER    297 

Once  in  it,  they  did  not  arise  swiftly,  for  they 
were  entangled  with  each  other.  They  floundered 
well  out  toward  the  middle  of  the  basin  before  they 
disentangled  themselves,  rose,  and  came  floundering 
toward  its  rim.  Mr.  James  frankly  sat  down  on 
the  cold  pavement  to  laugh  in  greater  comfort;  Pol- 
lyooly  danced  lightly  in  her  childish  glee. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  had  halted  his  won- 
dering charge  in  the  shadow  of  one  of  the  Nelson's 
lions,  and  laughing  joyfully,  surveyed  the  dim  levi- 
athans in  the  fountain. 

"What  is  it?  What's  happening?"  cried  the  Es- 
meralda. 

"Nothing — nothing;"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  in  reassuring,  but  shaken,  tones.  "It's  only 
Mr.  Vance  collecting  materials  for  his  great  his- 
torical picture  of  the  Lion  of  Montevideo  taking  his 
evening  bath." 

"You're  a  perfect  terror,  John!"  said  the  Esmer- 
alda  in  a  tone  of  profound  conviction.  "It's  your 
doing,  this !  I'm  sure  of  it!" 

"The  Ruffins  have  always  been  patrons  of  the 
arts.  And  I  do  what  I  can — the  family  tradition, 


298  POLLYOOLY 

you  know,"  he  said  with  amiable  self -congratula- 
tion. 

"But  it  will  make  him  more  dangerous  than  ever," 
said  the  Esmeralda  in  a  tone  of  extreme  disquiet. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  It  will  cool  his  ardor — so  don't 
you  worry  about  it,  my  dear  child,"  he  said  firmly 
and  kissed  her. 

The  dripping  bathers  climbed  stiffly  over  the 
fountain's  rim,  Hilary  Vance  explaining  in  a  roar 
that  if  Senor  Perez  continued  to  annoy  the  Esmer- 
alda, this  evening  bath  would  become  his  nightly 
practice,  Senor  Perez  threatening  Hilary  Vance  in 
a  scream  with  assassination,  the  duel,  and  the  law. 

It  was  the  keen  eye  of  Mr.  James  which  marked 
the  policeman  arriving  in  tardy  haste.  He  shoved 
Hilary  Vance's  hat  into  his  hand  and  cried,  "Bolt, 
man!  Bolt!  Off  you  go,  Polly ooly!" 

Hilary  Vance  left  the  Square  in  immense  bounds ; 
Pollyooly  ran  lightly  toward  the  other  corner. 
Senor  Perez  turned  on  Mr.  James  and  threatened 
him.  He  was  being  very  shrill  and  idiomatic  in 
broken  English  and  Montevidean  when  the  eager 
policeman  arrived. 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    299 

"'Ere!  Wot's  all  this  about?"  said  the  police- 
man. 

Senor  Perez  was  chiefly  pantomimic,  for  he  was 
almost  past  the  point  of  articulate  speech. 

The  policeman  listened  to  his  husky  Montevidean 
execrations  attentively.  Then  he  turned  to  Mr. 
James  and  said,  "Look  'ere;  wot's  it  all  about?" 

"You'd  better  ask  another  policeman,"  said  Mr. 
James  calmly.  "I  was  walking  across  the  Square, 
and  I  saw  this  gentleman  in  the  fountain  taking  a 
bath.  I  think  he's  a  foreigner." 

'  'E's  a  forriner  all  right,"  said  the  policeman 
with  decision.  "But  there  was  another  of  'em.  I 
sor  'im." 

"Yes ;  there  was  a  curly-headed  man  in  the  foun- 
tain, too — another  foreigner  to  judge  from  his  curly 
hair,"  said  the  deceitful  Mr.  James  carelessly.  "Be- 
sides, Englishmen  bathe  in  the  morning — at  home." 

The  policeman  surveyed  the  gasping  Montevidean 
with  a  gloomy  frown ;  then  he  said,  "  'Ere ;  you 
come  along  er  me  an'  give  a  hexplanation  of  your- 
self." 

Senor  Perez  said  something  in  Montevidean, 


300  POLLYOOLY 

"You — come — along — er — me,"  said  the  police- 
man, raising  his  voice  to  make  his  meaning  perfect- 
ly plain. 

Senor  Perez  got  a  little  breath,  and  pointing  to 
Mr.  James  and  then  to  the  fountain  was  again  shrill 
in  Montevidean. 

"He  was  trying  to  explain  things  to  me  when  you 
came.  Can  you  make  out  what  he's  driving  at? 
Does  he  want  me  to  take  a  bath,  too?"  said  Mr. 
James  coolly. 

"It  looks  like  it,"  said  the  policeman;  then  even 
more  loudly  he  said,  "You — come — along — er — 
me." 

Senor  Perez  gibbered. 

The  policeman  took  him  by  the  arm ;  Senor  Perez 
promptly  closed  with  him  in  a  damping  wrestle.  The 
policeman  blew  his  whistle;  Mr.  James  walked 
quietly  but  quickly  to  the  southwestern  corner  of 
the  Square.  There  he  turned  and  looked  back  for 
a  moment  at  the  wavering  group  by  the  left-hand 
fountain ;  then  he  went  down  Pall  Mall. 

At  the  first  sight  of  the  hasting  policeman  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  drew  the  Esmeralda  along 
towarcl  the  Strand.  Pollyooly  caught  them  up  as 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    301 

they  entered  it.  They  had  never  seen  her  so  ani- 
mated, or  with  such  a  fine  color  in  her  cheeks. 

"It  was  lovely!"  she  said  breathlessly.  "They  did 
splash  and  grunt." 

She  was  still  smiling  a  happy,  angel  smile  when 
they  reached  the  Temple. 

The  next  morning  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
made  a  point  of  attending  Seiior  Perez's  first  public 
appearance  in  England — at  the  Police  Court.  He 
found  him  very  hazy;  so  did  the  interpreter,  the 
magistrate,  and  the  evening  papers.  It  may  be  that 
the  police  had  confused  his  wits;  it  may  have  been 
the  cold  water.  But  his  immersion  in  the  left-hand 
fountain  in  Trafalgar  Square  remained  a  mystery. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  thought  that  the  chas- 
tened Montevidean  remained  obscure  in  his  account 
of  his  ducking  from  a  desire  that  it  should  not  be 
generally  known  that  he  had  been  persecuting  the 
Esmeralda.  Plainly  he  was  a  wiser  man  than  he 
had  supposed.  Perhaps,  like  a  social  reformer,  he 
had  acquired  wisdom  in  Trafalgar  Square. 

They  saw  him  no  more ;  his  ardor  had  been  thor- 
oughly damped;  and  the  cloud  lifted  from  the  Es- 
meralda's  light  spirits.  It  did  not  fall  on  them  again 


302  POLLYOOLY 

till  the  last  week  of  her  engagement  at  the  Varolium. 
From  it  she  was  going  to  Berlin,  from  Berlin  to 
Petersburg,  from  Petersburg  to  Rome,  and  from 
Rome  to  Australia. 

During  that  last  week  both  she  and  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  were  much  quieter  as  they  supped  to- 
gether after  the  theater  than  they  had  used  to  be; 
their  eyes  lingered  on  each  other  in  clinging 
glances.  Pollyooly  observed  their  fallen  spirits  with 
sympathy;  she  was  sorrowful  herself  at  the  coming 
departure  of  the  Esmeralda.  But  she  took  it  as  a 
matter  of  course  that  the  Esmeralda  must  go,  that 
their  work  must  sunder  them.  Life  was  like  that. 
It  is  to  be  doubted  that  either  the  Esmeralda  or  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  took  their  approaching  sev- 
erance in  as  resigned  a  spirit. 

The  Esmeralda  had  not  abandoned  her  plan  that 
Pollyooly  should  learn  to  become  a  dancer;  and 
many  were  the  discussions  the  friends  of  Pollyooly 
held  about  the  matter.  The  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
made  prevail  his  idea  that  a  fund  should  be  estab- 
lished from  which  to  pay  her  teachers;  and  slowly 
he  brought  it  about  that  each  of  them  should  fix  his 
yearly  subscription  to  it  at  the  lowest  he  could  af- 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS   A  CAREER    303 

ford,  in  order  that  the  collector  of  the  fund  need  be 
under  no  scruples  about  harrying  it  out  of  him,  and 
might  have  the  less  trouble  in  doing  so.  His  sug- 
gestion that  he  should  try  to  get  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins 
to  become  the  collector  of  the  funds  was  welcomed 
by  all  of  them.  If  one  of  them  were  collector,  it 
was  conceivable  that  he  would  find  coolness  arising 
between  himself  and  those  who  proved  tardy  payers. 
None  of  them  admitted  the  possibility  of  tardy  pay- 
ment ;  they  were  all  too  enthusiastic  about  promoting 
a  great  Art  and  Pollyooly.  Yet  they  perceived 
clearly  that  the  Honorable  John  Rufrln  had  good  rea- 
son in  his  suggestion. 

When,  therefore,  all  their  subscriptions  had  been 
fixed,  he  went  one  morning  after  breakfast  to  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  and  found  him  in  the  middle  of  his 
soothing  morning  pipe. 

He  bade  him  good  morning  in  a  very  brisk  and 
businesslike  tone,  and  said,  "Some  friends  of  Mary 
Bride  have  decided  that  she  is  to  adopt  the  career 
of  dancing — stage  dancing." 

"Stage  dancing — that  child?"  said  Mr.  Gedge- 
Tomkins  in  a  tone  of  great  surprise.  Then  he 
frowned  severely  and  added,  "Why  not  let  her  stay 


304  POLLYOOLY 

in  her  proper  station  ?  She  makes  a  very  fair  laun- 
dress ;  and  she  is  earning  very  good  wages  for  a  child 
of  her  age — very  good  indeed." 

"Well,  we  don't  feel  that  the  station  of  Temple 
laundress  is  the  right  station  for  an  angel  child.  We 
feel  that  Providence  called  her  to  it  as  a  stepping- 
stone  to  higher  things ;  to  this  art  in  fact,"  said  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  firmly. 

Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  grunted  dissent. 

"Besides,  you  have  to  bear  in  mind  that  Mary 
Bride  has  very  good  blood  in  her  veins.  There  can 
be  no  doubt  that  she  is  a  red  Deeping,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  with  a  very  serious  gravity. 

"What's  that?"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  quickly. 

"Haven't  you  ever  heard  of  the  Norfolk  Deep- 
ings?"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  allowing  a 
little  contempt  for  the  social  ignorance  of  his  col- 
leagues at  the  Bar  to  steal  into  his  tone. 

"Of  course — of  course,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins 
hastily,  but  quite  untruthfully. 

"Well,  the  red  Deepings  are  the  oldest  and  strong- 
est strain  of  the  Norfolk  Deepings.  Red  Roger  in 
fact  was  the  big  man  of  the  family,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  in  the  tone  of  a  historian. 


POLLYOOLY   FINDS  A  CAREER    305 

"Of  course — of  course,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tom- 
kins,  to  whom  it  was  the  newest  of  news. 

"Well,  quite  by  accident  we  found  out  that  Mary 
Bride  is  a  red  Deeping,  an  undoubted  descendant  of 
that  romantic  old  scoundrel  Red  Roger.  The  Duch- 
ess of  Osterley  herself  made  the  discovery." 

"Did  she  indeed?"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins, 
deeply  impressed. 

"She  did;  and  you  see  it  makes  a  lot  of  difference. 
It  explains  Pollyooly ;  and  it  makes  it  imperative  on 
her  friends  to  see  that  she  does  not  spend  all  her 
days  as  a  Temple  laundress." 

"There's  certainly  something  in  that,"  said  Mr. 
Gedge-Tomkins  with  genuine  conviction. 

"Well,  we're  going  to  cultivate  her  talent  for  danc- 
ing, since,  as  things  go  nowadays,  it  is  a  career  most 
likely  to  afford  her  an  opportunity  of  marrying  into 
the  sphere  to  which,  by  blood,  she  belongs." 

"I  see  the  idea.  Of  course  the  aristocracy  is  mar- 
rying the  dramatic  profession  at  a  great  rate,"  said 
Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  thoughtfully. 

"Well,  we  have  formed  a  fund  for  the  training  of 
Mary  Bride  in  this  art;  and  we  want  some  one  to 
manage  the  fund  for  us  and  collect  it.  I  suggested 


306  POLLYOOLY 

that  you  would  do  it  better  than  any  of  us,  for  you 
have  more  strength  of  character  than  any  of  us  and 
a  much  greater  knowledge  of  business." 

"M'm,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  doubtfully. 

"Of  course  it  won't  be  an  easy  job;  I  am  one  of 
the  subscribers  and  another  is  the  artist  to  whom 
Pollyooly  sat  for  the  illustrations  to  the  fairy  stories 
in  the  Rlue  Magazine.  P>ut  that  makes  you  all  the 
more  the  right  man  to  manage  the  fund.  If  it  were 
an  easy  job,  I  wouldn't  ask  you." 

"I  must  think  it  over,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins, 
properly  flattered  and  properly  unconscious  of  the 
fact.  "If  I  don't  undertake  to  manage  the  fund,  I'll 
subscribe  to  it.  She's  certainly  a  remarkable  child; 
and  it  would  be  money  well  spent." 

He  had  only  just  had  it  brought  home  to  him  that 
Pollyooly  was  a  remarkable  child,  but  now  he  saw 
it  very  clearly  indeed. 

"Good,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  going 
toward  the  door. 

"By  the  way,  I  don't  think  she  ought  to  be  called 
Pollyooly  any  longer — now  that  you've  found  out 
that  she's  a  red  Deeping,"  said  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins 
with  conviction. 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    307 

"Oh,  while  she's  young — even  red  Deepings 
should  be  kept  young/'  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  as  he  went  out  of  the  room. 

That  afternoon  the  Esmeralda  took  Pollyooly  to 
her  own  mistress,  the  dancing-mistress  who  had 
guided  her  own  early  steps,  introduced  her  with  a 
strong  assurance  that  she  had  found  for  her  a  most 
promising  pupil,  and  arranged  for  her  first  lessons. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Gedge-Tomkins  treated 
Pollyooly  with  a  new  respect ;  and  on  the  way  to  the 
Law  Courts  he  told  the  Honorable  John  RufBii  that 
he  would  undertake  the  management  and  collection 
of  the  fund  for  her  training  in  her  art.  He  then 
went  on  to  warn  him  that  if  he  once  grew  interested 
in  the  matter,  he  would  assuredly  exact  the  last  far- 
thing of  their  subscriptions  from  the  subscribers,  so 
they  had  better  make  up  their  minds  to  it. 

"That's  what  I  want,"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  with  decision. 

The  Esmeralda  was  pleased  indeed  to  have  ar- 
ranged a  future  for  Pollyooly  before  she  departed 
on  her  continental  and  Australian  tours,  and  told 
her  many  times  that  she  looked  to  find  her  on  the 
way  to  excellence  when  she  returned.  Pollyooly 


3o8  POLLYOOLY 

promised  her  that  she  would  do  her  best.  At  the 
last  performance  of  Titania's  Azvakenmg  they  re- 
ceived an  ovation  which  made  the  management  of 
the  Varolium  sorry  indeed  that  they  had  not  engaged 
the  Esmeralda  for  another  six  weeks;  such  popu- 
larity was  independent  of  the  times  and  the  season. 

Pollyooly  was  sad  when  they  came  out  of  the 
theater  for  the  last  time;  and  in  spite  of  their  best 
efforts  to  be  light-hearted,  their  last  supper  with  the 
Honorable  John  Ruffin  was  a  somewhat  mournful 
meal. 

The  next  morning  they  saw  the  Esmeralda  off 
from  the  Charing  Cross  Station.  It  was  not  a  scene 
for  sad  farewells;  some  fifty  of  the  Esmeralda's 
friends  and  admirers  were  there,  resolved  to  make 
her  departure  a  triumph.  The  Esmeralda  seconded 
their  enthusiastic  effort  nobly;  but  her  smiles  were 
a  little  strained ;  and  she  had  only  eyes  for  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin.  Pollyooly  was  the  last  person 
she  kissed;  his  was  the  last  hand  she  clasped. 

He  and  Pollyooly  came  gloomily  out  of  the  sta- 
tion together  and  turned  down  the  Strand.  Polly- 
ooly's  eyes  were  still  a  little  misty ;  and  his  face  was 
so  deeply  overcast  that  without  thinking  what  she 


POLLYOOLY  FINDS  A  CAREER    309 

was  doing  she  slipped  a  comforting  little  hand  into 
his. 

He  looked  down  at  her  with  mournful  eyes, 
squeezed  her  hand,  and  said  sadly,  "Ships  that  pass 
in  the  night,  Pollyooly — ships  that  pass  in  the 
night." 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   DUKE'S    MISTAKE 

A<TER  the  going  of  the  Esmeralda  the  world 
ceased  to  whirl  for  Pollyooly;  its  pace  slack- 
ened ;  it  grew  quiet,  and  save  for  an  altercation  now 
and  again  with  one  of  the  more  aggressive  creditors 
of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  altercations  which 
left  the  face  of  the  creditor  far  more  brightly  red 
than  that  of  Pollyooly,  humdrum.  Indeed  of  that 
whirling  world  into  which  that  delightful  dancer  had 
led  her,  there  only  remained  some  fairy  robes,  some 
pretty  silk-lined  boxes  which  had  held  chocolates, 
and  four  thin  gold  bangles  which  had  come  with 
moving,  but  ill-spelled,  epistles  from  young,  but 
lavishly  tipped,  adorers  of  the  ruling  class. 

Pollyooly's  regret  for  the  whirling  world  was  nei- 
ther deep  nor  lasting.  Very  soon  she  went  about  her 
work,  tended  the  Lump,  played  with  him,  and  took 
him  for  his  airings  quite  contented  and  unrepining. 

310 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  311 

To  all  seeming,  life  presented  itself  dimly  to  her  sage 
mind  as  something  in  the  nature  of  a  kaleidoscope, 
and  you  acquiesced  in  its  changes.  Sometimes  the 
squares  fell  into  a  bright  picture,  sometimes  into  a 
dull  one.  You  took  them  as  they  came;  and  that 
was  all  there  was  to  it.  That  at  any  rate  was  the 
impression  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  derived  from 
her  answers  to  the  questions  he  put  to  her  twice  or 
thrice  when  curiosity  came  on  him  to  discover  what 
lay  behind  that  serene  angel  mask. 

He  expressed  his  impression  in  the  pregnant 
words:  "Mrs.  Bride,  you  are  a  philosopher." 

Hilary  Vance,  Mr.  James  and  Madam  Plehve,  her 
dancing-mistress,  sometimes  saw  another  Pollyooly. 
She  devoted  herself  to  her  dancing  in  the  careful, 
painstaking  fashion  in  which  she  grilled  the  bacon 
of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  or  tended  the  Lump. 
But  it  was  a  very  different  matter;  she  loved  it. 
Sometimes  to  dance  was  something  very  like  an 
intoxication  to  her.  Once  every  week  she  took  Lump 
to  tea  with  Hilary  Vance  and  Mr.  James  at  the  stu- 
dio in  Chelsea;  and  she  always  danced  for  them 
that  they  might  see  what  progress  in  the  art  she  was 
making. 


312  POLLYOOLY 

Hilary  Vance,  watching  her  dancing  with  the  gen- 
uine artist's  eye  for  form,  would  presently  begin 
to  mutter  and  ruffle  his  mop  of  curls.  Sometimes 
he  would  cry,  "Oh,  what  a  poor  thing  the  pencil  is ! 
Never — no,  never  shall  I  be  able  to  get  into  a  draw- 
ing the  whole  of  the  motion  in  one  of  Pollyooly's 
movements  once  she  has  warmed  up  to  her  dancing." 

"If  you  could  get  the  whole  of  Pollyooly  dancing, 
you  would  set  down,  plain  for  all  who  have  eyes  to 
see,  the  secret  of  the  Dionysiac  ecstasy,"  said  Mr. 
James  one  day.  "Pollyooly  is  the  Maenad  ?  When 
she  warms  to  her  dancing,  I  see  the  Bacchic  frenzy 
rise.  But  I — I  am  a  wise  man ;  I  know  that  manu- 
facturers do  not  make  the  paper  on  which  either 
pencil  or  pen  can  set  down  these  things." 

About  a  month,  or  perhaps  it  was  five  weeks,  after 
the  going  of  the  Esmeralda,  Pollyooly  had  just  fin- 
ished dusting  the  bedroom  of  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  one  morning  when  there  came  a  knocking  on 
the  door  of  his  chambers. 

She  went  to  it  as  she  was,  duster  in  hand,  the 
sleeves  of  her  print  frock  rolled  up  to  her  elbows, 
and  opened  it. 

There  at  the  threshold  stood  Lord  Ronald  Ricks- 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  313 

borough,  very  elegant  and  fashionable  in  his  Eton 
jacket,  white  waistcoat,  and  light  trousers.  His 
very  shiny  top  hat  was  pushed  on  to  the  back  of  his 
head,  for  the  morning  was  hot  and  the  four  flights 
of  stairs  consequently  mountainous. 

"Why — why,  it's  Ronald!"  cried  Pollyooly;  and 
her  clear,  pale  cheeks  flushed  scarlet;  and  her  eyes 
shone  on  him  with  more  than  the  radiance  of  sap- 
phires. 

"By  Jove!  It's  Mary!"  cried  Ronald;  and  his 
dark  eyes  brightened  with  an  equal  pleasure. 

They  shook  hands,  and  Pollyooly  led  the  way  into 
the  sitting-room,  where,  at  the  sight  of  a  stranger, 
the  Lump  rose  from  the  floor  and  gazed  at  Ronald 
with  solemn  eyes. 

"It's  my  little  brother,  Roger.  But  everybody 
calls  him  the  Lump,"  said  Pollyooly,  by  way  of  ex- 
planation and  introduction. 

"Goodness !  He  is  red-headed.  His  hair  is  redder 
than  yours,"  said  Ronald,  with  the  frankness  of  the 
astonished. 

"He  is  a  cherub — a  genuine  cherub — everybody 
says  so,"  said  Pollyooly  quickly  and  with  decision. 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  Ronald  a  little  vaguely. 


POLLYOOLY 

He  turned  to  her,  and  they  looked  at  each  other 
with  eyes  full  of  interest  and  pleasure.  Then,  as  he 
took  in  the  duster,  the  print  frock  and  rolled-tip 
sleeves,  Ronald's  face  fell  a  little,  and  he  said, 
"What  are  you  doing  here — in  my  cousin's  cham- 
bers?" 

"We  live  here — the  Lump  and  me,"  said  Polly- 
ooly,  her  grammar  weakened  by  this  sudden  pleasure. 

"Yes.  But  what  do  you  do  ?  Are  you — are  you 
John  Ruffin's  servant  ?"  said  Ronald  with  some  hesi- 
tation, and  a  touch  of  anxiety  in  his  tone. 

"I'm  his  housekeeper;  it's  a  position  of  dignity; 
he  often  says  so,"  said  Pollyooly  with  an  air  of 
great  dignity  herself. 

"Oh,  I  see,"  said  Ronald  with  some  relief. 

"Is  the  court  just  as  nice  as  it  was  in  May  ?  And 
the  dogs  ?  And  has  any  one  else  but  you  found  out 
that  I  wasn't  Marion?  And  have  they  found  her?" 
said  Pollyooly  quickly,  almost  in  a  breath,  in  her 
eagerness  to  learn  all  that  had  happened  since  her 
flight. 

"The  court's  all  right/'  said  Ronald,  sitting  down 
in  an  easy  chair.  "It's  jolly  enough,  though  not  so 
jolly  as  when  you  were  there  to  knock  about  with. 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  315 

And  the  dogs  are  all  right.  There's  two  new  ones — 
not  up  to  much.  And  nobody  has  ever  guessed  you 
weren't  Marion.  I  told  you  they  wouldn't;  you're 
too  much  like  her — on  the  outside.  And  they  haven't 
found  her,  and  they're  not  likely  to.  They  didn't 
begin  hunting  for  her  till  you  bolted  from  the  court ; 
and  of  course  she'd  really  been  lost  a  fortnight  then." 

"Did  they  bother  you  much  about  me?  Where 
I'd  got  to?" 

"Well,  that  was  quite  simple.  We  never  thought 
of  it;  but  of  course  they  kept  asking  where  Marion 
was;  and  of  course  I  didn't  know;  so  it  was  quite 
easy  to  say  I  didn't.  I  could  tell  the  truth  all  the 
time,"  said  Ronald  in  a  tone  of  satisfaction. 

"Of  course  they  would.  That  was  nice,"  said 
Pollyooly. 

"It  was  rather  a  blessing.  They  can't  catch  you 
out  in  the  truth,"  said  Ronald. 

"And  how's  Miss  Marlow?"  said  Pollyooly  with 
more  politeness  than  interest. 

"Oh,  she's  still  there — waiting  for  Marion  to 
come  back.  But  they'll  never  find  her  now,"  said 
Ronald. 

"I  don't  think  they  will,"  said  Pollyooly. 


3i6  POLLYOOLY 

They  were  silent  for  a  minute,  gazing  at  each 
other  with  pleased  eyes. 

Then  Pollyooly  sighed  and  said :  "I  do  wish  I  was 
going  to  the  court  again — with  the  Lump." 

"I  wish  you  were,"  said  Ronald.  "It  would  be 
ripping.  You're  the  only  girl  I  ever  came  across 
one  could  really  be  pals  with.  And  then,  of  course, 
you  were  in  the  great  mystery.  It  was  awful  luck 
for  a  girl."  He  ended  with  a  faint  sigh  of  envy. 

"I  didn't  care  much  for  the  mystery  myself," 
said  Pollyooly  thoughtfully.  "I  was  so  afraid  of 
getting  found  out.  But  I  did  like  being  at  the 
court." 

"We  did  have  a  good  time.  But  the  mystery  was 
the  thing,"  said  Ronald. 

They  paused  to  gaze  at  each  other  again  with 
pleased  eyes.  Then  Pollyooly  asked  him  what  he 
had  been  doing  since  they  parted;  and  he  told  her 
of  the  term  at  school,  his  riding,  fishing,  birds-nest- 
ing, and  adventures  on  his  wanderings  with  the  dogs 
at  Ricksborough  Court;  and  Pollyooly's  many  ques- 
tions lengthened  it  out. 

When  he  came  to  the  end  of  it  she  sighed  and 
said,  "Oh,  I  do  wish  I  had  been  there." 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  317 

"I  wish  you  had,"  said  Ronald  with  fervor.  "But, 
I  say,  this  is  a  very  jolly  morning.  Couldn't  you 
put  on  some  clothes  and  come  out?  The  park  isn't 
up  to  much,  but  it's  better  than  nothing  at  all." 

Pollyooly's  eyes  shone,  but  she  said,  "I  can't  leave 
the  Lump." 

"Bring  him  along;  he  won't  howl,  I  suppose?" 

"He  never  howls,"  said  Pollyooly  quickly. 

"Right  O ;  hurry  up,"  said  Ronald. 

Pollyooly  was  not  long  dressing  herself  and  the 
Lump.  She  put  on  her  blue  silk  frock  because  her 
golden  frock  was  very  like  the  amber  frock  she  had 
worn  at  Ricksborough  Court;  and  Ronald  had  seen 
her  in  that.  She  dressed  the  Lump  in  his  blue  silk 
tunic  because  it  matched  her  frock. 

Ronald  looked  at  her  a  little  anxiously  as  she 
came  into  the  room;  but  at  the  sight  of  the  Liberty 
confection  which  so  admirably  adorned  her  angelic 
beauty  his  face  cleared  and  he  said :  "By  Jove !  you 
do  look  all  right !" 

Pollyooly  smiled  the  gracious  smile  of  one  who 
has  received  tribute  known  to  be  deserved. 

They  sallied  forth  from  the  Temple  into  Fleet 
Street,  and  found  it  very  like  an  oven. 


3i8  POLLYOOLY 

"We'd  better  take  a  taxi  to  the  park,"  said  Ron- 
ald. 

"What  for?"  cried  Pollyooly,  aghast  at  the  ex- 
travagance. "There's  lots  of  motorbuses  and  they'll 
take  us  there  just  as  quickly.  It's  no  use  spending 
money  on  taxis  when  there  are  so  much  nicer  things 
to  spend  it  on." 

"But  I've  lots  of  money.  My  grandmother  gave 
me  a  five-pound  note  last  night,  and  I  only  changed 
it  this  morning,"  Ronald  protested. 

"The  thing  to  do  is  to  save  money,  not  to  spend 
it,"  said  Pollyooly  with  a  solemn  severity  born  of 
lessons  in  the  school  of  necessity.  "But  if  you  do 
spend  it,  it's  silly  not  to  spend  it  on  really  useful  or 
nice  things." 

"All  right ;  we'll  go  on  a  'bus,"  said  Ronald,  yield- 
ing to  this  cogent  reasoning. 

When  they  had  settled  themselves  on  the  top  of 
a  motorbus,  the  Lump  in  Pollyooly's  lap,  she  said : 
"What  did  your  grandmother  give  you  the  five- 
pound  note  for?" 

"A  tip,"  said  Ronald. 

"Yes,  but  what  did  you  do  for  it  ?" 

"Nothing.    It  was  a  tip." 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  319 

"But  what  have  you  got  to  buy  with  it?"  said 
Pollyooly,  puzzled. 

"Anything  I  like,"  said  Ronald. 

"Not  clothes,  or  boots,  or  things  like  that  ?"  said 
Pollyooly,  knitting  her  brow  in  her  perplexity. 

"No;  I  can  spend  it  just  as  I  like — on  tuck,  thea- 
ters, cricket-bats — anything,"  said  Ronald. 

"Well,  that  is  funny.  Nobody  ever  gives  me 
money  unless  I  do  something  for  it,"  said  Polly- 
ooly. 

"That's  because  you  haven't  any  relations,"  said 
Ronald. 

"Oh,  of  course,  Aunt  Hannah  sometimes  gave 
me  a  penny,  but  five  pounds  all  at  once;  it's  won- 
derful !"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  tone  of  awe. 

"Oh,  I  get  a  fiver  quite  often.  It's  all  luck,"  said 
Ronald. 

At  the  corner  of  Bond  Street  they  descended  from 
the  'bus,  and  Ronald  ushered  them  into  a  confection- 
er's shop.  The  entry  of  an  angel  child  and  an  au- 
thentic, but  red-headed  cherub,  under  the  escort  of 
such  a  good-looking  boy  as  Ronald,  aroused  an  un- 
common interest  amidst  the  lunchers  from  the  Ken- 
singtons, of  which  the  children  were  quite  unaware, 


320  POLLYOOLY 

for  they  devoted  themselves  to  the  sweets  and  cakes 
with  a  whole-hearted  intentness,  Pollyooly  watching 
over  the  Lump  with  her  usual  motherly  care. 

When,  judging  by  his  own  feelings,  Ronald  be- 
lieved that  they  could  hold  no  more,  they  took  an- 
other 'bus  to  Hyde  Park  Corner,  and  from  there 
betook  themselves  to  the  banks  of  the  Serpentine. 
They  sat  for  half-an-hour  in  pleasant  somnolence, 
talking  but  little ;  then  their  natural  activity  asserted 
itself  again;  and  they  went  for  a  row. 

At  a  quarter-past  three  Pollyooly  said  that  she 
must  be  going  back  to  the  Temple  to  get  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin's  tea  ready  against  his  return  at 
four  o'clock.  Ronald  escorted  them  back  to  the  gate 
of  the  Temple,  and  on  the  way  he  invited  Pollyooly 
to  lunch  with  him  on  the  morrow,  and  afterward 
go  with  him  to  the  Varolium,  if  she  could  find  some- 
one to  take  care  of  the  Lump,  since  the  entertain- 
ment would  be  above  the  head  of  a  child  of  three. 
She  said  that  she  could  leave  the  Lump  in  the  care 
of  Mrs.  Brown;  and  if  Mr.  Ruffm  would  give  her 
leave  she  would  like  to  come  very  much.  But  she 
must  ask  him. 

Accordingly,  when  she  took  the  Honorable  John 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  321 

Ruffin's  tea  into  his  sitting-room,  she  said :  "Please, 
sir,  Ronald — Lord  Ronald  Ricksborough,  I  mean — 
has  been  here." 

"The  deuce  he  has!"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin.  "And  what  did  he  say  when  he  saw  you?" 

"He  seemed  pleased,  sir.  You  see,  we  got  to 
know  each  other  very  well  at  the  court,"  said  Polly- 
ooly  in  an  explanatory  tone. 

"I've  no  doubt  he  was  pleased — the  pleasing 
sight  gives  pleasure  to  the  ingenuous  boy,  as  his 
Latin  exercise  book  doubtless  assures  him.  I  ex- 
pect he  was  surprised,  too." 

"Yes,  sir.    We  went  to  the  park,"  said  Pollyooly. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  raised  his  hands  with 
an  air  of  the  liveliest  surprise,  and  cried :  "We  live 
indeed  in  a  precocious  age.  I  did  not  expect  to  be 
confronted  by  the  question  of  iollowers  for  years 
and  years.  Oh,  Pollyooly,  Pollyooly,  what  is  your 
sex  coming  to?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir,"  said  Poli>  ooly  gravely. 

"And  in  your  case  the  question  of  followers  is 
a  difficult  one.  If  I  had  not  decided  that  since  you 
resided  here  you  were  my  housekeeper,  and  must  be 
called  Mrs.  Bride,  it  would  be  quite  easy.  But  I  do 


322  POLLYOOLY 

not  know  what  the  rules  about  a  housekeeper's  fol- 
lowers are.  They  may  be  allowed  in  the  house." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"You  see,  it's  a  very  important  matter;  it  must 
be  put  on  a  proper  footing.  It  would  never  do  to 
have  any  laxness  in  it,  for  we  might  run  counter 
to  the  established  tradition,  which  would  be  horri- 
ble. Besides,  one  scion  of  a  noble  family  is  sure 
to  lead  to  others." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly.  "Can  I  go  with  him 
to  the  Varolium  to-morrow  afternoon,  sir?" 

"That's  awkward.  Suppose  you  were  mistaken  for 
Lady  Marion  Deeping?"  said  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin  doubtfully.  "Of  course,  you  danced  there. 
But  that  was  very  different;  no  one  would  ever 
dream  that  Lady  Marion  Ricksborough  would  be 
on  the  Varolium  stage.  But  they  would  be  quick 
enough  to  recognize  her  in  the  auditorium — with 
her  cousin,  too." 

Pollyooly's  face  fell. 

"Well,  that  can't  be  helped.  It  wouldn't  be  fair 
that  you  should  be  deprived  of  the  simple  pleasures 
of  London  because  you  once  helped  to  restore  a 
daughter  to  her  mother,"  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  323 

went  on  in  a  lighter  tone.  "And,  after  all,  I  should 
think  that  Ronald  could  stand  cross-examination 
very  well.  If  there  is  trouble,  tell  him  to  refer  all 
inquirers  to  me." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly,  and  her  face  grew 
bright  again. 

"And  I  tell  you  what :  if  any  one  persists  that  you 
are  Lady  Marion,  and  wants  to  carry  you  off  to 
Ricksborough  House,  you  be  firm  with  them;  just 
call  a  policeman  and  give  them  in  charge.  You'll 
like  doing  that." 

"Yes,  sir.  They  wouldn't  have  any  right  to, 
sir,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"None  whatever.  So  mind  you're  firm  with 
them." 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  tone  of  determina-, 
tion;  and  at  the  joyful  thought  of  the  morrow  she 
went  up  to  her  attic,  to  fetch  the  Lump,  on  very 
light  feet. 

When  Ronald  arrived  at  one  o'clock  the  next  day 
he  found  her  ready  to  go  with  him,  the  Lump  al- 
ready in  the  safe  keeping  of  Mrs.  Brown.  He 
smiled  at  her  with  great  contentment,  for  she  was 
looking  her  most  angelic;  and  on  their  way  down 


324  POLLYOOLY 

the  stairs  he  put  his  arm  round  her  clumsily  and 
kissed  her. 

Pollyooly  flushed  a  little,  but  returned  his  kiss 
frankly ;  then  she  said :  "It's  funny,  but  I  don't 
often  get  kissed  except  by  the  Lump." 

"I  don't  care  about  kissing  myself — much.  In 
fact,  I  hate  having  women  slobbering  over  me," 
said  Ronald  frankly.  "But,  somehow,  you're  dif- 
ferent," he  added  thoughtfully. 

"I  like  it  rather,"  said  Pollyooly.  "Aunt  Han- 
nah used  to  kiss  me,  of  course;  but  she's  dead.  And 
the  Esmeralda  used  to  kiss  me  when  I  was  dancing 
with  her;  but  she's  gone  to  Paris  and  Berlin." 

"The  Esmeralda!  You  danced  with  the  Esmer- 
alda?" cried  Ronald,  in  the  liveliest  amazement; 
and  he  stopped  short  on  the  stairs. 

"Yes ;  at  the  Varolium ;  and  I  got  a  pound  a  week 
for  six  weeks.  It's  saved,  every  bit — in  the  Post- 
Office  Savings  Bank,"  said  Pollyooly  with  natural 
pride. 

"You  were  that  kid !  The  fairy  in  Titania's  Awak- 
ening! Why,  I've  heard  no  end  about  you!  Half- 
a-dozen  of  the  fellows  talked  of  nothing  else  for 
days  after  the  mid-term  holiday.  Lascelles  minor 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  325 

went  to  see  you  four  times,  and  Carruthers  minor 
three;  and  they  wrote  to  you." 

"I  wonder  if  they  sent  me  any  of  these  bangles," 
said  Pollyooly,  jingling  them  on  her  wrists.  "But 
I  got  such  a  lot  of  things — boxes  of  chocolates,  you 
know.  And  I  got  the  letters  and  the  names  mixed 
up;  so  I  don't  know  who  sent  me  different  things. 
The  Esmeralda  told  me  not  to  write  and  thank  them 
or  I  should  have  nothing  else  to  do." 

"I  call  it  rather  cheek,  their  sending  you  bangles — 
chocolate  is  all  right,"  said  Ronald  with  a  touch  of 
jealousy  in  his  tone. 

"Oh,  people  always  do,  when  you  dance,"  said 
Pollyooly  carelessly. 

They  went  on  down  the  stairs;  and  suddenly 
Ronald  laughed  joyfully,  and  said  in  a  tone  of  tri- 
umph :  "By  Jove !  I  wonder  what  they'll  say  when 
they  hear  that  I  know  you,  and  we've  been  going 
about  together!"  He  kissed  her  again  in  the  fullness 
of  his  heart.  "Fancy  your  not  telling  me  that 
sooner!  Most  girls  would  have  told  me  the  first 
thing." 

"We  were  talking  about  you  and  the  court  all 
yesterday,"  said  Pollyooly  simply.  "But  when  I 


326  POLLYOOLY 

grow  up  I  am  going  to  be  a  dancer  like  the  Esmer- 
alda  myself.  I'm  working  hard  at  it." 

"That's  ripping,"  said  Ronald  in  a  tone  of  the 
warmest  approval. 

But  he  could  not  properly  discuss  a  matter  of 
such  weight  while  he  was  in  motion,  and  at  the  bot- 
tom of  the  stairs  he  came  to  a  standstill  and  gazed  at 
her  earnestly. 

"So  you've  really  been  on  the  stage?"  he  said, 
knitting  his  brows  into  a  thoughtful  frown.  "I  tell 
you  what:  ever  since  you  were  at  the  court  I've 
been  thinking  that  you're  the  kind  of  a  girl  I  should 
like  to  marry.  In  fact,  you're  the  only  girl  I  ever 
felt  like  that  about.  But  when  I  found  you  were 
John  Ruffin's  housekeeper  I  was  a  good  deal  put 
off—" 

"It's  a  position  of  dignity.  He  said  so,"  Polly- 
ooly  interrupted  in  a  very  firm  tone. 

"Yes;  but  fellows  don't  marry  housekeepers. 
But  if  you're  going  on  the  stage — dancing,  too — 
that  makes  it  all  right.  Lots  of  fellows  marry  girls 
on  the  stage — in  the  choruses  of  musical  comedy— 

"They  can't  dance  for  nuts,"  interrupted  Polly- 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  327 

ooly,  mindful  of  the  Esmeralda's  strictures  on  that 
deserving  but  incompetent  class. 

"I  dare  say  not ;  but  they're  on  the  stage,  so  fel- 
lows can  marry  them.  And  I  can  marry  you  if 
you're  going  on  the  stage.  Don't  you  see?"  said 
Ronald  eagerly. 

"Yes,"  said  Pollyooly  gravely. 

"You're  sure  you  don't  mind?"  said  Ronald  a 
little  anxiously. 

"No;  I  should  like  it,"  said  Pollyooly  with  her 
angel  smile. 

"Then  we  might  as  well  be  regularly  engaged." 

"All  right,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  pleased  tone. 

"But,  of  course,  we  won't  get  married  till  you've 
been  on  the  stage  for  a  bit — just  to  make  it  quite 
right,"  he  said  with  a  thoughtful  caution. 

"But  I've  been  on  the  stage,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"Yes;  of  course  you  have.  But  we  shan't  be 
able  to  get  married  for  a  good  many  years;  and  I 
think  you'd  better  go  on  it  a  bit  more  before  we  get 
married.  It  mightn't  count  properly,  your  being 
so  young." 

"All  right.     I  should   like   it,"   said   Pollyooly. 


328  POLLYOOLY 

"People  take  you  to  supper  at  beautiful  restau- 
rants." 

Ronald  breathed  the  sigh  of  relief  of  a  man  who 
has  arranged  an  important  matter  satisfactorily, 
and  said: 

"Well,  we'd  better  get  on  or  we  shan't  have 
proper  time  for  lunch." 

They  walked  briskly  out  of  the  Temple  and 
climbed  on  to  a  motorbus.  When  they  had  settled 
down  in  their  seats,  Ronald  chuckled  and  said :  "By 
Jove !  the  fellows  will  be  sick  when  they  hear  we're 
engaged.  It's  something  like  a  score,  besides  being 
jolly  itself." 

Then  he  turned  a  little  gloomy,  and  said:  "But 
we  ought  to  have  taken  a  taxi.  I  don't  believe  Las- 
celles  minor  would  let  the  girl  he  was  engaged  to 
go  on  a  'bus." 

"I  shouldn't  have  thought  he  was  engaged  if  he 
wrote  letters  to  me,"  said  Pollyooly  in  some  sur- 
prise. 

"Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  he  isn't,"  said  Ronald. 

"Then  how  does  he  know  what  he'd  do?"  said 
Pollyooly  triumphantly. 

Ronald's  face  cleared. 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  329 

After  some  discussion  about  where  they  should 
lunch,  they  decided,  at  Pollyooly's  suggestion,  to  go 
to  the  Cafe  Grice  in  Soho,  where  the  Esmeralda 
had  been  used  to  sup  with  the  Honorable  John  Ruf- 
fm.  She  said  that  the  French  pastry  there  was  de- 
licious. There  Ronald  enjoyed  another  surprise. 
When  they  entered  the  proprietor  and  his  staff  leaped 
forward  to  a  man  to  greet  Pollyooly,  their  faces 
wreathed  in  smiles  of  welcome.  The  proprietor 
himself  took  Ronald's  orders  with  a  great  air  of 
deference;  and  Ronald  found  the  attention  very 
much  to  his  liking. 

They  ate  some  poulet  en  casserole,  and  the  rest 
was  pastry  and  ices. 

Ronald  was  surprised  by  the  bill;  but  he  said 
nothing  till  they  came  out.  Then  he  said:  "By 
Jove !  That's  an  awfully  good  place  for  the  money. 
I  must  go  there  when  I'm  lunching  in  town  on  my 
own.  I  shall  be  rather  short,  you  know,  when  I've 
bought  you  a  decent  engagement  ring." 

"A  ring?  Oh,  I  shall  like  having  it!"  said 
Pollyooly,  flushing,  with  shining  eyes.  "Wearing 
a  ring  will  make  me  always  remembering  you." 

"I  expect  that's  what  they're  for,"  said  Ronald. 


330  POLLYOOLY 

They  walked  quickly  to  the  Varolium;  and  when 
they  came  into  its  vestibule  Ronald  was  making  for 
the  box-office  when  Pollyooly  checked  him. 

"I  mustn't  be  paid  for,"  she  said  firmly.  "When 
you're  on  the  stage  you  don't  pay  for  seats.  The 
Esmeralda  told  me  so.  It  wouldn't  be  right." 

She  crossed  the  vestibule  to  the  manager  and  held 
out  her  hand.  The  manager  greeted  her  with  a 
warmth  as  deep,  though  not  so  effusive,  as  that  of 
the  proprietor  of  the  Cafe  Grice.  He  asked  her 
news  of  the  Esmeralda;  and  since  the  Honorable 
John  Ruffin  had  read  her  parts  of  the  Esmeralda 's 
letters  to  him  she  was  able  to  give  him  the  latest  ac- 
counts of  her  triumph  in  Berlin.  She  told  him, 
with  natural  pride,  that  she  had  not  found  in  Ger- 
many a  little  girl  who  suited  her  nearly  as  well  as 
she  had  done ;  and  the  manager  said  that  she  might 
very  well  hunt  the  world  through  without  finding 
one.  She  introduced  Ronald  to  him,  and  after  the 
interchange  of  the  due  civilities,  he  himself  con- 
ducted them  to  a  box  in  the  middle  tier.  Again 
Ronald  found  the  attention  very  much  to  his  liking. 

They  enjoyed  the  entertainment  greatly.     Polly- 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  331 

ooly  watched  the  dancing  with  the  keenest  eyes,  and 
discussed  it  very  gravely  indeed.  After  the  enter- 
tainment they  walked  down  Piccadilly,  discussing 
the  different  turns,  to  the  Bond  Street  confection- 
er's. There  they  made  an  excellent  tea. 

They  were  strolling  back  down  Piccadilly,  still 
talking  earnestly,  when  a  motor-car  drew  up  at  the 
curb  with  a  jerk,  ten  feet  before  them,  and  the  Duke 
of  Osterley  sprang  out  of  it. 

He  caught  Pollyooly  by  the  arm,  crying  triumph- 
antly :  "Marion  at  last !  Where  did  you  find  her  ?" 

"I'm  not  Marion!"  cried  the  startled  Pollyooly, 
trying  to  tug  her  arm  away. 

"That  isn't  Marion,  sir!"  cried  Ronald. 

"Not  Marion?  What  do  you  mean?  What  are 
you  talking  about  ?"  cried  the  duke. 

"She's  Mary  Bride,"  said  Ronald. 

"Yes,  I'm  Mary  Bride.  Let  go  my  arm!"  said 
Pollyooly,  tugging  harder. 

"Do  you  two  impudent  young  devils  think  I  don't 
know  my  own  daughter?"  cried  the  duke;  and  his 
prim  face  began  to  redden  with  anger. 

"I'm  not  your  daughter!"  cried  Pollyooly. 


332  POLLYOOLY 

"Indeed,  she  isn't,  Uncle.  She's  Mary  Bride — 
John  Ruffin's  housekeeper,"  Ronald  emphatically 
protested. 

"Let  go  my  arm  or  I'll  call  a  policeman,"  cried 
Pollyooly  fiercely,  mindful  of  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin's  instructions. 

Already  a  large  group  was  regarding  with  inter- 
est the  dapper  but  purple  gentleman  squabbling  with 
two  elaborately  dressed  children  in  the  middle  of 
Piccadilly;  and,  keenly  alive  to  the  risk  of  seeing 
his  domestic  affairs  once  more  in  print,  the  duke 
picked  Pollyooly  up  bodily  and  stepped  into  the  car 
with  her.  Ronald  sprang  in  after  him,  and  the 
duke  cried,  "Home!" 

During  the  four  minutes  that  it  took  them  to 
reach  Ricksborough  House  the  duke  said  nothing 
and  Pollyooly  said  nothing.  He  scowled  at  Polly- 
ooly, and  pulled  at  his  neat  and  harmless  mustache; 
Pollyooly  gave  him  scowl  for  scowl.  Ronald,  to 
whom  the  occurrence  was  an  extremely  agreeable 
ending  to  an  agreeable  afternoon,  twice  assured  the 
incredulous  duke  that  he  was  making  a  mistake. 

When  the  car  stopped,  the  duke  hurried  Polly- 
ooly into  the  house,  through  the  hall,  calling1  to  the 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  333 

interested,  but  impassive,  butler  to  send  Mrs.  Hut- 
ton  to  him  at  once,  and  into  the  dining-room. 

"Now  what  do  you  mean  by  this  cock-and-bull 
story?"  he  said  with  all  the  truculence  he  could 
muster. 

"It  isn't  a  cock-and-bull  story — it  isn't  really. 
It's  the  literal  truth.  She  isn't  Marion  at  all.  She's 
Mary  Bride — John  Ruffin's  housekeeper.  She  has 
been  for  months,"  said  Ronald. 

"Yes;  that's  who  I  am;  and  I've  got  a  little 
brother  called  Roger — so  there!"  said  Pollyooly, 
with  a  truculence  that  more  than  matched  the  duke's. 

"Yes ;  she  has.  I've  seen  him,"  said  Ronald.  "I 
went  to  the  Temple  to  see  John  Ruffin,  and  I  found 
her  there;  and  she's  so  like  Marion  I  asked  her  to 
come  out  with  me.  And  she's  been  on  the  stage, 
which  Marion  couldn't  have  done,  because  she's  too 
much  of  a  duffer — dancing  with  the  Esmeralda  at 
the  Varolium.  Hundreds  of  people  can  tell  you  so." 

The  duke  was  staggered.  The  attitude  and 
firmness  of  the  two  children  shook  his  conviction 
that  his  daughter  Marion,  whom  after  all  he  only 
knew  by  sight,  was  before  him. 

Then  Mrs.  Hutton  bustled  into  the  room,  in  a 


334  POLLYOOLY 

panting  and  purple  excitement,  and  at  the  sight  of 
Polly ooly  cried  fussily,  "Why,  if  it  isn't  her  lady- 
ship come  back !  Oh,  if  your  ladyship  only  knew  the 
trouble  and  anxiety  you've  given  everybody,  espe- 
cially your  good  father — " 

"He's  not  my  father!  I  haven't  got  a  father!" 
cried  Pollyooly,  interrupting  her. 

"That  settles  it.  Mrs.  Hutton  recognizes  you  at 
once,"  said  the  duke  triumphantly.  "I  knew  I 
couldn't  be  mistaken." 

"She's  a  silly  old  idiot!"  said  Pollyooly  fiercely, 
but  with  intense  conviction. 

"But  it  is  a  mistake,  Uncle.  Can't  you  see  how 
much  better  looking  and  intelligent  Mary  is  than 
Marion?"  Ronald  protested  earnestly,  with  more 
regard  for  the  truth  than  for  a  father's  pride. 

"Both  of  them  say  that  this  isn't  Marion,  that 
it's  another  little  girl,  Mrs.  Hutton,"  said  the  duke. 

"There  can't  be  two  Lady  Marions,  your  Grace," 
said  Mrs.  Hutton,  in  a  tone  of  finality. 

"Of  course  there  can't,"  said  the  duke. 

As  he  spoke  Ronald's  fox  terrier,  Wiggs,  trotted 
into  the  room  and  with  no  hesitation  whatever 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  335 

greeted  Pollyooly  with  every  demonstration  of  af- 
fectionate regard. 

"That  does  settle  it,"  said  the  duke  in  a  tone  of 
mingled  relief  and  triumph.  "That  dog  couldn't 
know  you  if  you  weren't  Marion.  Take  her  to  her 
room,  Mrs.  Hutton,  and  lock  her  in  it  Pack  her 
things  and  take  her  down  to  the  court  by  the  ten- 
fifteen  to-morrow.  If  she  gets  away  from  you  again 
I  shall  discharge  you." 

"I  won't  go !"  said  Pollyooly  firmly ;  and  she  sat 
down  in  an  easy-chair. 

The  exasperated  duke  sprang  forward,  caught 
her  by  her  arm  and  jerked  her  to  her  feet.  Mindful 
of  the  teaching  of  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin,  Polly- 
ooly uttered  a  shrill  and  piercing  scream. 

The  startled  duke  loosed  her  anil  and  stepped 
back.  "Oh,  I  see  what  it  is,"  he  said,  grinding  his 
teeth.  "Your  mother  has  put  you  up  to  this." 

"My  mother's  been  dead  years  and  years.  You 
leave  me  alone,"  said  Pollyooly  firmly;  and  she  sat 
down  again. 

"Take  her  up-stairs,  Mrs.  Hutton,"  said  the  duke 
thickly. 


336  POLLYOOLY 

"If  she  touches  me  I'll  bite  her,"  said  Pollyooly, 
in  a  tone  of  the  grimmest  resolution. 

The  duke  scratched  his  head  and  said:  "Look 
here,  if  you  don't  go  with  Mrs.  Hutton,  Lucas  shall 
take  you,  you  naughty  child." 

"If  he  touches  me  I'll  bite  him/'  said  Pollyooly. 

The  duke  panted  and  rang  the  bell. 

The  portly  butler  came  to  the  summons. 

"Take  Lady  Marion  to  her  rooms,  Lucas,"  said 
the  duke. 

"If  you  touch  me  I'll  bite  you,"  said  Pollyooly, 
glowering  at  him  and  baring  her  teeth. 

Lucas  scratched  his  head. 

"D'you  hear  what  I  say  ?  Take  her  to  her  room !" 
cried  the  duke  furiously;  and  he  executed  a  short, 
poor  dance  on  the  hearthrug. 

Lucas  advanced  slowly,  looking  unhappy. 

"Look  here,  you  go  quietly.  You'll  only  get  hurt 
and  get  your  clothes  torn,"  said  Ronald  in  a  tone 
of  decision.  "And  I'll  go  and  fetch  John  Ruffin. 
He'll  make  them  understand." 

The  thought  of  getting  her  clothes  torn  hampered 
Pollyooly 's  freedom  of  action,  and,  scowling  at  Lu- 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  337 

cas  and  the  duke,  she  said:  "All  right;  if  you'll 
fetch  him  I'll  go  quietly."  And  she  rose  with  a  most' 
ungracious  air. 

Ronald  bolted  out  of  the  room  and  house.  Polly- 
ooly  followed  Mrs.  Hutton  up-stairs,  closely  guarded 
behind  by  the  relieved  Lucas.  They  conducted  her 
to  a  large  and  airy  bedroom,  with  a  pleasing  view 
over  the  Green  Park;  but  they  did  not  lock  her  in 
because,  with  a  forethought  admirable  in  one  so 
young,  she  contrived  to  reach  the  door  of  it  just  be- 
fore Mrs.  Hutton  and  sequestered  the  key.  This 
compelled  that  stout  Argus  to  sit  on  a  chair  against 
the  door;  and  Pollyooly,  admiring  the  view,  paid 
little  heed  to  her  repinings. 

Meanwhile  the  duke  went  to  his  smoking-room 
and  sat  down  in  an  easy-chair  to  recover  from  the 
perturbation  occasioned  by  the  conduct  of  Polly- 
ooly, still  haunted  by  a  certain  dread,  aroused  by 
the  steadfast  attitude  of  the  two  children,  that  he 
had  imprisoned  a  perfect,  but  red-haired,  stranger. 
As  he  sat  soothing  himself  and  pulling  nervously  at 
his  unhappy  mustache,  he  pondered  gloomily  over 
his  quarrel  with  the  duchess,  which,  beginning  as 


338  POLLYOOLY 

a  most  trivial  molehill,  had  swelled  to  such  moun- 
tainous proportions. 

Then  Ronald  arrived  with  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin,  whom  by  the  luckiest  chance  he  had  actually 
found  in  his  chambers. 

The  grave  and  gloomy  air  with  which  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  entered  the  smoking-room  was, 
to  an  observant  person,  utterly  belied  by  the  sparkle 
in  his  eyes,  which  showed  him  simmering  with  quiet 
joy. 

"To  say  nothing  of  an  assault,  an  action  for  ma- 
licious imprisonment  will  certainly  lie,"  he  said  in 
a  gloomy  tone,  without  any  phrase  of  greeting  to 
the  duke. 

"Look  here;  you're  not  in  this  cock-and-bull 
story,  too,  Ruffin?"  said  the  duke  anxiously,  ris- 
ing hastily  as  he  spoke. 

"You  forget  yourself,  Osterley.  I  shouldn't  dream 
of  being  in  any  cock-and-bull  story,"  said  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin  with  a  most  dignified  air.  "I'm 
talking  about  my  unfortunate  housekeeper,  whom 
you  have  abused,  assaulted,  and  maliciously  impris- 
oned. Really,  Osterley,  if  your  peerage  were  five 
centuries  older,  I  could  have  understood  it.  I  should 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  339 

simply  say  that  the  old  robber  baron  strain  had  sud- 
denly broken  out  in  you.  But  you  were  ordinary 
London  burgesses  till  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  You  have  no  excuse  for  behaving  like  this. 
It's  uppishness — mere  uppishness." 

"Oh,  stop  your  confounded  rotting,"  said  the  duke 
irritably.  "Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  that  red- 
haired  child  is  not  Marion?  Why,  Mrs.  Hutton, 
Marion's  maid,  recognized  her  at  once;  and  what's 
more,  Ronald's  dog,  Wiggs,  recognized  her,  too. 
I'll  swear  he  did." 

"Old  women  and  dogs !  Do  you  mind  my  feeling 
your  ducal  skull,  Osterley?  You  must  be  suffering 
from  softening  of  the  brain.  The  child  is  my  house- 
keeper, Mary  Bride.  She  has  been  about  the  Tem- 
ple for  the  last  two  years ;  and  scores  of  people  can 
swear  that  she  was  at  Muttle-Deeping  for  ten  years 
before  that,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  in  in- 
cisive tones. 

"If  I  could  only  be  sure  that  Caroline  herself  had 
not  put  you  all  up  to  this  game,"  said  the  duke  dis- 
mally. 

"Look  here ;  do  you  think  I'd  have  Marion  as  my 
housekeeper?"  said  the  Honorable  John  RufHn  with 


340  POLLYOOLY 

some  heat.  "Do  you  think  Marion  could  grill  bacon 
so  that  a  self-respecting  human  being  could  eat  it?" 

"She  might  have  been  taught,"  said  the  duke. 

"Taught!  Taught!"  cried  the  Honorable  John 
Ruffin.  "Oh,  this  is  a  father's  fond  partiality.  I 
did  not  expect  to  find  it  in  a  man  of  the  world  like 
you,  Osterley.  You  must  know  that  the  power  of 
grilling  bacon  is  a  heaven-sent  gift.  It  can't  be 
learned." 

"But  how  do  you  explain  that  dog?"  said  the  duke 
obstinately. 

The  Honorable  John  Ruffin  could  very  well  have 
explained  that  Wiggs  had  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Pollyooly  when  she  was  impersonating  Marion  at 
Ricksborough  Court.  Instead  of  doing  so,  he  cried 
indignantly:  "I  don't  explain  dogs;  I  explain  the 
law.  I'm  a  barrister,  not  a  biologist — as  you  very 
well  know,  if  you  will  only  stop  to  think.  But  I'll 
tell  you  what  we'll  do;  we'll  all  go  down  to  the 
kitchen,  and  Pollyooly — Mary  Bride — shall  grill 
you  some  bacon.  That  will  quite  convince  you." 

"I've  no  fancy  for  bacon  at  six  o'clock  in  the 
day,"  said  the  duke  gloomily.  "I  suppose  I've  made 
a  mistake," 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  341 

"You  have — a  bad  mistake — and  with  a  red  Deep- 
ing, too.  You  know  what  the  red  Deepings  are." 

"A  reel  Deeping?"  said  the  duke. 

"Of  course  Pollyooly  is  a  red  Deeping.  That's 
why  she's  so  like  Marion.  I  told  you  she  came  from 
Muttle-Deeping ;  and  you  know  how  these  old  strains 
crop  up  among  the  village  folk.  Has  she  bitten  any- 
body?" said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  with  a  sud- 
den air  of  anxiety. 

"She  said  she  was  going  to  bite  Lucas — wish  she 
had,"  said  the  duke  gloomily.  "But  she  hadn't  when 
she  went  up-stairs." 

"That's  all  right,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffin 
with  an  air  of  relief.  "If  a  red  Deeping  bit  me,  I 
should  have  the  bite  cauterized  at  once.  But  never 
mind.  I'll  soothe  her.  Send  for  her." 

The  duke  rang  the  bell,  and  bade  Lucas  fetch 
Pollyooly.  She  came  into  the  room,  looking  like  an 
aggrieved  but  very  defiant  angel.  At  the  sight  of 
the  Honorable  John  Ruffin  her  face  cleared.  She 
crossed  the  room  swiftly,  and  took  her  stand  at  his 
side.  Then  she  scowled  at  the  duke. 

The  duke  cleared  his  throat,  and  with  an  air  of 
deep  discomfort,  said:  "I — er — er — find  I've  made 


342  POLLYOOLY 

er — er — a  mistake.  It  er — er — seems  you  aren't 
Marion  after  all." 

"I  told  you  so,  and  you  wouldn't  believe  me.  And 
so  did  Ronald,"  said  Pollyooly  in  a  tone  of  unmis- 
takable triumph. 

"It  was  er — er — the  likeness.  You're  very  like 
my  little  girl,"  said  the  duke  in  the  unhappiest  tone. 

"Only  more  intelligent  looking — Ronald  says  so," 
said  Pollyooly  firmly. 

"Perhaps — perhaps.  And  then  the  clothes  you're 
wearing;  and  then  er — er — finding  you  with  my 
nephew — " 

"I  asked  her  to  come  out  because  she's  so  like 
Marion,"  Ronald  interposed  quickly. 

"We  seem  somehow  or  other  to  be  drifting  away 
from  the  subject  of  compensation,"  said  the  Honor- 
able John  Ruffin  in  his  most  agreeable  tone. 

;<Ah,  yes;  compensation,"  said  the  duke  with  a 
fresh  air  of  gloom.  "I  suppose  a  couple  of  sover- 
eigns— " 

"My  dear  Osterley — assault,  abuse,  and  malicious 
imprisonment,"  said  the  Honorable  John  Ruffm  in 
a  tone  of  protest. 

"Well,  five  pounds,"  said  the  duke  more  gloomily. 


THE  DUKE'S  MISTAKE  343 

Polly ooly  puckered  her  brow  thoughtfully:  "I 
think  it  ought  to  be  six,"  she  said  very  firmly. 

"All  right — six,"  said  the  duke  with  tears  in  his 
voice. 

He  drew  a  note-case  from  his  pocket,  took  a  five- 
pound  note  from  it,  drew  a  handful  of  money  from 
his  trousers  pocket,  chose  a  thin-looking  sovereign 
from  it,  and  gave  them  to  Pollyooly. 

She  thanked  him  politely,  but  without  undue 
warmth. 

Every  one  but  the  duke  looked  relieved  and 
pleased. 

Then  Ronald  said,  "May  I  have  the  car  and  take 
Mary  home,  Uncle?" 

The  duke  growled  an  assent,  and  Pollyooly 
dropped  a  curtsey  and  bade  him  good  evening  like 
the  well-mannered  child  she  was. 

In  the  car  Ronald  said:  "By  Jove!  It  was  fun! 
You  did  stand  up  to  them ;  and  John  Ruffin  did  pull 
uncle's  leg.  He's  a  fair  knock-out,  John  Ruffin  is. 
I'd  no  idea.  And  you  have  all  that  money — six  quid ! 
What  are  you  going  to  do  with  it?" 

"Save  it,"  said  Pollyooly. 

"It  seems  funny  to  save  money,"  said  Ronald. 


344  POLLYOOLY 

"Yes;  but  when  Mr.  Ruffin's  creditors  are  victo- 
rious, and  consign  him  to  the  deepest  dungeon  in 
Holloway  Castle — he  says  they  may — then  the  Lump 
and  I  will  live  on  the  money  I've  saved;  and  we 
shan't  go  to  the  workhouse,"  said  Pollyooly  in  the 
tone  of  a  conqueror  of  Fate. 

"Oh,  it's  like  that— I  see,"  said  Ronald. 

He  kept  the  car  in  King's  Bench  Walk,  while  he 
went  round  with  her  to  Mrs.  Brown's  to  fetch  the 
Lump;  and  he  carried  him  up  the  stairs  to  the  Hon- 
orable John  Ruffin's  chambers. 

Then  he  put  his  arm  around  her  neck  and  kissed 
her  and  said :  "I'll  come  round  for  you  to-morrow 
about  one;  and  I'll  bring  that  engagement  ring." 

"Oh,  it  will  be  nice!"  said  Pollyooly;  and  she 
kissed  him. 


THE  END 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A     000136746    5 


